At The End Of The Road
by StayGold4ever
Summary: One eight letter word changes their lives forever. Leukemia. Pony struggles to beat the disease. But through the struggle, he finds new friends, repairs old relationships, and learns what it really means to live. The bond between the gang is stronger than ever as they realize just how much they've taken for granted. Johnny and Dally are alive!
1. Chapter 1

**SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for checking out this story. I've always been interested in writing a story like this, I'm not sure how it'll turn out but I'll do my best! I did all my research, and don't worry, I know a fair amount of stuff about leukemia, so I'm not totally clueless ;) Hope you like it!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 1: Again?

**PONY'S POV**

"Ponyboy Curtis! If I have to speak again to you for sleeping in class, I'm writing you up!"

My head snapped up from the smooth surface of my desk. 3:15. Eight minutes till the bell. Then, I remembered that Mrs. Colla had been talking to me.

"Sorry ma'am, what did you say again?" I was wincing, waiting for the explosion. Mrs. Colla had not been known to take to distractions in her classroom very well. The Socs were smirking, enjoying watching me suffer. The disadvantage of making good grades is being the only greaser in a roomful of Socs.

Sure enough, she didn't take well. "I was wondering if you can possibly explain why you were sleeping during our lesson!" she snapped, her voice escalating. "Why you find this more important then your exams! Why..."

She paused to take a breath and I saw opportunity. "Listen, Mrs. Calla, I'm really sorry, it won't happen again."

"I sure hope it won't happen again, because if it does, I..."

The bell cut her off, and everyone scrambled to get out. I tried to slip out with the rest of them, but no such luck.

"Mr. Curtis! I'm not finished with you! We'll continue this conversation tomorrow!"

Thank God. I got out of there as fast as I could. I hurried down the hall, got to my locker, and leaned against it, exhausted. I had been really tired lately. Johnny appeared next to me.

"Hey man," he said. "Long day?"

"Yeah, I just got caught sleeping in history by Mrs. Colla."

"Don't let Darry find out, he'll be furious." Johnny warned me as we walked outside.

"No worries, I ain't planning on telling him."

"Hey Johnny, Pony!" Two-Bit waved us over, sitting on the hood of Steve's car. "Y'all coming?"

Johnny nodded and scrambled in, but I shook my head. "Can't, I got track practice."

"Want me to give you a lift after practice?" Two-Bit offered, but I shook my head. "No thanks, I'll walk."

"You sure, kid?" Steve yelled from inside the truck. "Darry wouldn't be too pleased if you got jumped."

I shook my head again. "I'm fine. I'm late, too. See ya." They took off, and I made my way over to the track. Now that I was by myself, I realized I didn't feel so hot. Kind of nauseous and my muscles were aching. _If I'm getting sick again, I'm gonna be furious._ I caught the flu a couple of months after Mom and Dad died, and ever since then it seemed to keep coming back. I'd already been sick twice this month. I'll just take a couple aspirins when I get home.

"You're late, Curtis!" Coach yelled from across the track. "Hurry up!"

I jogged over to where the team was standing, already starting to sweat. I was drained of all energy. _I have to get through this practice, it's only a couple of hours. _I reminded myself as westarted our usual five laps. I can't even express how much I just wanted to quit and lie down. It'll all be over soon, I kept reminding myself. Just keep going. Almost there. I finally finished, in last place.

"Alright, 50 push-ups! Curtis, c'mere for a minute. I made my way over to where he was standing.

"You okay, Curtis?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."_ No, I'm not. _"Why would you ask?"

"You usually come in first, and you came in last, you feeling all right?" Coach asked, looking concerned.

"I've just got a cold, I'll be fine," I replied. He didn't believe me, I could tell.

"Curtis, go home and get some rest. You won't be able to be in the competition next week if you're sick."

I finally just agreed, there was to much truth in that to argue. "Alright, bye Coach, see you tomorrow."

"Get some rest."

I trudged home desperately wishing that I had agreed to let Two-Bit take me home, I was feeling worse by the minute. I'll just take aspirins and take a nap, if Darry finds out I'm sick then he'll make me stay home from school, and I have exams tomorrow. I can't miss them. When I got home, I saw Darry's truck in the driveway. _Great, he's home early,_ I thought sarcastically. I banged open the screen door, and immediately went for the aspirin bottle.

"Pony, that you?" Darry yelled from his room.

"Yeah, I'm in the kitchen." Darry came in.

"Why are you home early?"

"I could ask the same about you." I retorted. Darry looked annoyed.

"Don't get mouthy. Now answer the question."

"Coach let us out early."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Two hours early? Liar. Now tell the truth."

I sighed. There was no way getting around him. "Fine. I wasn't feeling good, so Coach sent me home so that I'll be okay for next weeks competition.

"You're not feeling good?" Darry looked concerned. I knew I shouldn't have told him. "Again?" He pressed a hand against my forehead. "Pony, you're burning up. Go to bed, I'll be in in a minute."

"I'm fine, I'm probably still hot from track. I'm fine,it's just a cold."_ please belive me, please believe me._

"You sure?" I nodded. "Okay, but I'm checking your temperature tomorrow, and if you're sick, I'm taking you to the doctor. You've been sick way too much lately."

"But my exams-"

"Are not as important as your health." Darry cut me off. "You can make them up."

"Fine. I'm gonna go sleep now."

"Kay. Sleep well, buddy."

I got to my room and lay down. I was kind of worried. I had been really weak and tired lately, and I had lost at least ten pounds, and I hadn't even been trying! I sighed and closed my eyes, curling up under the blankets. The cool pillow felt good. I fell asleep almost immediately. What was wrong with me?

**Author's Note: Well, that's chapter 1! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please review! Have a good day! Stay Gold! -Emily ;) :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**SADLY**,** I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm very pleased at the amount of reviews I revived- 9 in one day! That's more than I got in two weeks for In Reality, which you should read too ;) It was a really good surprise to get them, I was at my dance recitle all day, and I got home around 10 and I heard all these _bing, bing, bing!_ noises as I got more emails. Yayyy! And don't worry, I won't make this too depressing cause 1.) That would make me depressed, and I'm generally a happy person so I don't want to be depressed, and 2.) Pony is my favorite charecter and soulmate, I can't do too much horrible stuff to him! Kay, I'll stop rambling and get to the story. Enjoy!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 2: D-Day

**PONY'S POV**

I slept the rest of the day. So much for studying for the exams. I remember Soda coming in around 6:30, kicking off his shoes in the living room and heading into the kitchen for his ritual glass of chocolate milk.

"Hey Darry, you're home early!" he yelled loudly at Darry's closed door. I groaned and buried my head into my pillow. Does he always have to be so loud?

"Yeah, Gerald let us off early, we were done for the day. And don't shout."

"It time for dinner? I see meatloaf."

"Yeah, and the gangs coming over for it, too, so don't scarf it all down, Sodapop." Darry's voice was teasing, but it's true, Soda eats like a horse.

"Sure thing, Dar. I'll go get Pony for dinner."

"No, let him sleep. I think he's coming down with something, his coach sent him home from track today."

"Again? That's like the third time this month." Soda's voice was concerned.

"I know. If he's sick tomorrow, then I'm taking him to the doctor. This isn't normal, he's been sick way too often lately. Go check on him, would you?"

"Got it!" Soda's footsteps thudded down the hall. I winced, waiting for him to slam open the door, but he opened it gently.

"Hey, Pony." he whispered. I felt the bed creak as he sat down beside me and rubbed my back. I didn't even open my eyes, I was so tired.

"Hey Soda." I whispered, cringing at how weak my voice sounded. I wasn't even going to try to act all tough now, I felt horrible. Soda pressed his hand on the back of my forehead.

"I think you're running a fever, Pony, I'll have Darry come in and check your tempeture after dinner."

"Kay."

"Are you hungry? We could save you some food."

"I'm good, I don't feel like eating right now."

"Alright. Sleep well, little buddy." He smoothed back my hair and left. After that, everything was hazy. I heard the low murmmer of voices in the kitchen, the voices of the gang arriving. I slept on and off after that. I vaguely remember Darry coming to check in on me, and Soda falling asleep next to me. I fell asleep for good after that, not waking up until the next morning.

It was still dark outside the window, even though it was around seven in the morning. I was groggy and half asleep when Soda gently shook me awake.

"Hey, Pone. Are you feeling good enough to go to school?" I was planning on saying yes, popping in a couple of aspirins, and heading off to school, but I could barely move. I needed to go to the doctor, there was no denying it. I shook my head a little, eyes still closed. He felt my forehead.

"Lord, Pony, you're on fire. I'm getting Darry, you defiantly need to go to the doctor." Darry appeared in the doorway a few seconds later.

"Still feeling sick, kiddo?" he asked. I nodded again.

"Open up." He placed the thermometer in my mouth. I leaned back against Soda, waiting for it to be finished. A minute later, it beeped and Darry pulled it out of my mouth.

"103.2. All right, get dressed, we're going to the doctor. No complaints."

I was too tired to complain. It took forever to just get myself out of bed, but I managed eventually. I didn't even bother to check what clothes I was pulling on, it didn't even matter. I dragged myself out to the living room to wait for Darry on the couch. I curled up and closed my eyes, totally oblivious to the fact that the T.V. was running Mickey Mouse at full volume, and Two-Bit was laughing like a hyena. I sat up. No point in trying to get any sleep now. I looked around. Johnny was eating eggs at the table, Steve and Soda were arm-wrestling, and Dally was smoking. Darry came hurrying in, pulling his shirt over his head as he spoke.

"S***, we're late, c'mon Pone, move it." Then he yelled to the whole house in general, "Guys, you need to leave at 7:45. Two-Bit, Johnnycake, Steve, y'all got school, make sure to walk home together. Steve, you're working at the DX after school, starting at 4. Dal, you're working, be at Buck's by 8, the rodeo starts at 9:30. Soda, you got work. Stay out of trouble. Don't do anything stupid."

Everyone was staring, I couldn't help grinning. Darry really should be a drill Sargent.

"Kay see everyone later." Darry yelled.

"See y'all later," I added in, but regretted it, cause my throat was sore.

We got five different responses. "But Darry, Mickeys not over till 8! I have to finish it!". "Bye Darry. Feel better, Pony.". "School. What a waste of time.". "Whatever. Later, man.". "See ya, Dar, Pony."

My ears were ringing. We finally got out of the house and into the car. I stretched out in the back seat as Darry got in the front. I was about to ask him which doctor's office we were going to, but I fell asleep before I could say a word.

I woke up to Darry shaking me. "We're here, Pony." I sat up too quickly. My vision swam and head throbbed. Darry steadied me. "Hey, take it easy, buddy." he said as he helped me inside. It was a small brick office with only a few offices. Dr. Wardley's office. I had been here a few times, but not in the past couple of years. I curled up in one of the chairs as Darry filled out paperwork. Pretty soon, the nurse called out "Ponyboy Curtis" and we went into an examining room to wait.

Dr. Wardley came in a few minutes later. He was a tall, stocky man with thin brown hair and dark blue eyes, probably in his mid-fourties. He was a real good guy, he treated people, whether Greaser of Soc, alike. I like him real well because he was actually gentle when he examined people, unlike many of the nurses I have had here before. One time, I was getting tested for strep throat, and the nurse was in such a hurry that she didn't even have me sit down, she just shoved it down my throat, giving me no warning. It wasn't a pleasant experience.

Anyway, he came on in, smiling.

"Hello Ponyboy, nice to see you again. And Darrel! What a nice surprise! Mom and Dad busy?"

I closed my eyes briefly. Mom and Dad had only died a couple months ago, and it was still a sensitive topic. Pain flirted briefly across Darry's face before he answered. "I'm sorry sir, we didn't inform you, they passed away in early December. Car wreck."

Dr. Wardley looked shocked. "Oh my God, I had no idea, I'm so sorry..."

"It's alright." Darry cut in, not wishing to pursue the topic.

Dr. Wardley cleared his throat professionally. "Well, what can I do for you boys today?"

I spoke up, "I've been getting sick a lot lately. We think it's the flu, but we just want to make sure."

"Okay, let's get started." He took blood first, which I didn't mind too much. Needles don't scare me. He then listened to my breathing, checked my heart, took my temperature, and did a throat cultural.

"Ponyboy, what symptoms have you been having?" he asked, looking worried.

"I've just been really tired, my bones have been kinda sore, and I've had a fever."

"Anything else?"

"Oh yeah." I pulled up my sleeves to reveal them. " I have some bruises on my arms, but I'm not sure what caused them."

"Okay, thank you, Ponyboy. You and Darrel may wait in the waiting room till we have some results."

So we waited. For at least a half hour. Finally, came out. Darry got to his feet. "So, what's he got?" Dr. Wardley looked uncomfortable.

"Ponyboy's blood results came back a little unusual. We're going to send you on down to the hospital for a couple more tests. I mean, this could all just be a lab error. We just want to make sure. Here's the directions. I set up an appointment for you at 10:30. That's in an hour. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Darry replied. "Thanks a lot."

"Call me with the results, would you?" Dr. Wardley asked, as he shook our hands.

"Sure." Darry looked worried as we got in the car, and I knew why. I had seen the directions. They couldn't hide everything from me. _Floor 7, Oncology Ward. _Oncology. I knew what they were testing me for. Cancer.

I looked up at Tulsa General, the building that could possibly change my life forever. I wasn't to worried, though. Dr. Wardley himself had said that it could just be a lab error, and he wouldn't lie, would he? There was no way I had cancer. I had to be careful about what I said, I wasn't supposed to know...

**DARRY'S POV**

I was worried, as we pulled into Tulsa General. The writing was imprinted in my mind: _Floor 7, Oncology Ward._ Now, I may not be Mr. Medical, but I did know what oncology meant. There was no way that my little brother had cancer. He was only 13, for God's sake! Anyway, doctors always try to overstate their ability, testing patients for every ailment under the sun, when it usually was just the flu. The thought cheered me as we made our way across the parking lot and through the double doors.

The hospital was clean and white and smelled of disinfectant. We got into the elevator and I punched the button for the seventh floor. Pony leaned against the wall, pale and sweaty.

"You doing all right, Pone?" I asked. He coughed weakly.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," he said hoarsely.

"Don't worry, we'll be done soon, it's probably just the flu or something." I saw no need to worry him now, when it probably wasn't true. The elevator dinged and we got out. This floor was a whole different world. There was something totally different in the atmosphere then downstairs. There were tons of familys looking tired yet familiar with the surroundings, talking to nurses and doctors like they were old friends. There were kids in the hallways, pale, thin, and bald. But as young as they were, their faces were mature, they had hope. Hope was everywhere, you could see it. Ponyboy was trembling. I couldn't hide it, he knew what he was being tested for.

"Don't worry," I whispered to him. "They're just taking percautions, you're probably fine. He nodded mutely. I led him to the row of plastic chairs, sat him down, and headed over to the front desk. The lady smiled kindly.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, we have an appointment for Ponyboy Curtis at 10:30. Just a couple of tests."

She shuffled through her papers. "Ah yes, Dr. Mitchell will be here in about fifteen minutes. You can wait over there until then."

"Alright, thank you."

"No problem, honey." It felt strange to be called that, I thought as I walked backed to my seat. Made me remember that I still am a kid. Not even 20 yet... I sat down next to Pony, who was already asleep in his chair. I looked down at him and smiled. The kid is so dang smart, he's gonna make it somewhere in his life. I just sat, thinking, until a voice beside me cut into my thoughts.

"First time?" I looked around and saw a women sitting beside me. There were bags under her eyes, she was obviously a regular here.

"Yes, ma'am. My brothers just getting tested." I didn't know why I was telling her this, maybe it had been so long since I was actually able to talk to someone in the same situation as me, to someone who seemed to care.

"Oh, well good luck. My son is here, he's 13. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

"That's alright. We're all in the same boat here. And even though it's horrible to see them sick, it teaches you things: the meaning of life, you appriciate things more, you meet so many wonderful people..." She trailed off. I sat there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. Thankfully, a man called out "Ponyboy Curtis" and I got to my feet. I nudged him awake.

"C'mon Pone, it's our turn. He yawned and got up, stretching. I turned back around and held out my hand to the women. "Darry Curtis."

"Elizabeth Dunthers." she said, shaking it. Then she turned to Pony and smiled. "I'm Mrs. Dunthers," she said, smiling warmly.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he whispered. He was nervous, I could tell.

"Likewise. Good luck!" she waved us off. We went over to the doctor.

"Hello!" he said in a booming voice. I liked him immediately, he didn't seem fake. He shook my hand. "Kenneth Mitchells. You must be Darrel." he pumped my hand enthusiastically. He had an iron grip. He turned to Ponyboy. "And you must be Ponyboy." He shook his hand, too.

"Yes, sir."

"Great. Now, if you two will follow me.."

He led the way down the long hallways, lined with hospital rooms. Some doors were opened, revealing hospital beds, and various tubes surrounding them. We walked past them, to a small examining room.

"Now if you'll sit there, Ponyboy..." Pony sat on the examining table. Dr. Mitchell did basically the same things that Dr. Wardley did, except he drew blood three times, in order to do more tests. Then it was back to the waiting room. Pony curled up and put his head against my shoulder. I rubbed his back, I could feel how tired he was.

"Do you want me to call Soda?" I asked. It had occurred to me that he might want to know what was going on. Pony shook his head.

"Not unless it's bad," he said. "I don't want to have him come all the way out here for the flu." I nodded, and we waited in silence. About 10 minutes later, Dr. Mitchell came over.

"We have the results. Follow me." That didn't sound good, and I think Pony knew it, too because he nudged me and whispered, "Actually, can you call Soda?"

"Sure, little buddy." I said. When we got to Dr. Mitchell's office, I made the call.

**SODA'S POV**

I was sitting behind the counter, bored out of my mind, reading a cars magazine. Business had been really slow today. The phone suddenly rang shrilly. I snatched it up.**  
**

"Thank you for calling the DX, this is Sodapop, what can I do for you today?"

"Soda?"

"Darry? What are you calling for?"

"I'm at Tulsa General. I need you to get down here, now."

"The hospital. What's going on?"

"I'll explain later. Just get down here. Pony's herLe. Seventh floor."

"Okay. Be there in 10 minutes, Dar."

"Alright. Don't speed."

"No promises."

I hung up, heart racing. The hospital? I hurried over to Mitch, my bosses office, and knocked.

"Come in."

"Hey, Mitch."

"Hey kid. What's up, run out of candy bars?" he chuckled.

"No, I got a family emergency. I need to get down to the hospital."

He stopped laughing. "Is everyone okay?"

"I don't know."

"Sure kid. Go on ahead. Good luck."

I hurried out, filled Steve in, and drove on down to the hospital. I practically ran to the elevator. I pressed the button for floor seven. As I went up, I ran my finger along the list of floors. _Floor seven: Oncology. _Heck, I didn't know what that was, but it didn't sound good. The elevator dinged and I hurried out to the desk. "Ponyboy Curtis." I said to the receptionist. "I was told he was here."

"Yes, he and his brother are in Dr. Mitchell's office. You family?"

"Yeah, they're my brothers."

"Ok, honey, I'll take you down there."

We walked down the hallway. As we walked, I put two and two together, and I found out the meaning of oncology- cancer. My mouth was dry and my heart was pounding. Did my baby brother have cancer? After all that had just happened? How could this happen? _Relax, I told myself. You don't know if he has it yet, they're probably just doing some tests to make sure he doesn't. It's just the flu._ I forced myself to believe that as I walked silently down the hallway. Finally, we stopped outside a small office. The nameplate read Dr. K. Mitchell.

"Here you go, they should be in there," said the women.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Anytime."

I opened the door and stepped inside.

**PONY'S POV**

I was scared. No, scratch that. I was terrified. I was afraid to hear what Dr. Mitchell had to say, but I knew I had to hear it. You can't hide from the truth. We decided to wait till after Sodapop came to hear the results. Good, cause I needed him. So we sat here, killing time but telling Dr. Mitchell about ourselves. There was a knock on the door, and Soda came in, mercifully interrupting Darry's long-winded explanation of football. Thank God. He can really get into those.

We made introductions and Soda sat next to me, gripping my hand.

"Now," said Dr. Mitchell. "The results." He shuffledthrough his papers. "When we checked Ponyboy's blood, I was very concerned at his bone marrow. It seems to be producing cells that are not mature. These inmature cells continue to reproduce. As a result, healthy cells are not able to reproduce and grow. Because of this, the body is confused, and it sends out signals to stop producing cells. Then the cells die. Your body can't live without cells, so it would eventually kill you. There is treatment, however."

He was about to continue but Darry broke in, "And what exactually is this called?"

Dr. Mitchell heaved a sigh. "There are many forms." he said. He looked right at me. "But it is my belief that you have Acute Myeloid Leukemia. LMC. Cancer."

The world spun around me. I couldn't think or feel or see. I have cancer. _Cancer. _

It was Febuary 27. D-Day. Diagnosis Day.

**Author's Note: Well, I'm extremely proud of myself! That's the longest chapter I've ever written! Now, I need to explain something about the story. PLEASE READ! Okay, in most of these stories, they focus on the sickness and the brothers. It moves along by one horrible scenario after another happens, and they usually make all the charecters cry a lot. Mine is going to focus more on benefits of this: it's going to bring everyone closer together, they're not going to fall apart. They're going to make friends with the patients and nurses and doctors and other families, cause that's usually what happens. And it's going to teach life lessons. And they always make Pony break down and bawl, but I'm going to make him the concrete of the group, the supporter, it just makes sense to me. In other words, this is going to be a deep story, but it's gonna be happy, too. You'll see why. Ok, I just felt like that was important to explain ;) Well, please review, it truly does motivate me! Thanks! Stay Gold! -Emily ;) :)**

**I GOT ALL MY INFO FROM THIS WEBSITE: Leukemia- Syptoms, Types, Causes, Diagnosis, and Treatments.**


	3. Chapter 3

**SADLY**,** I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Hey! Hope everyone's having a good week! I really appriciate the reviews, I thank all of you! Some people were concerned that the story wouldn't be sad enough. No worries! This story will be _plenty _sad, just not the whole thing. Like, it's going to be a bittersweet story, it's just going to focus a little more on friendship and stuff. It's going to be very sad and realistic, though! But happy, too! Kay, hope you like it!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 3: The Plan

**PONY'S POV**

Leukemia. _Leukemia. _God help me, leukemia. This is _not _happening. S***. I'm going to turn into a f****** pity party! I _hate _sympathy. I'm just gonna be some scrawny, sickly kid! I could die! Oh, my God...

I finally calmed down a little and looked around the office. Dr. Mitchells looked almost as upset as I felt. It must be tough to give kids news like that. Soda had his head in his hands, his breathing shallow and shaky. But Darry let out a big breath.

"Okay," he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, as if he was preparing for a big football game. "Okay." He seemed the calmest out of everyone. I knew I looked calm, but a huge tornado was whirling inside my brain, millions of questions spinning out of control. _What are the treatments? What are the risks? How long will I have to stay at the hospital? How will the gang handle this? How will _I_ handle this? What about school? What about money? Will I die?_ Oh, my God.

I shook my head a little to clear it. I felt calmer. I can handle this, I can beat this. Soda was geting himself together, too. He looked stunned. Dr. Mitchells cleared his throat.

"Are you all right, Ponyboy?"

"Yeah, I- I'm fine. Just a lot to deal with." He clapped my shoulder.

"I know it's a lot to process, but it'll get better over time. I promise."

"Everyone alright?" he asked. We all nodded. "Okay, here's the plan."

"There are several treatments and procedures. Chemotherapy, a hematopoietic stem cell transplant, antiobiotics, bone marrow transplant, red blood cell transfusions, transfusions of platelets. Now, acute myeloid leukemia is very rare in young people, you usually see it occur in people around 60. It also worsens very quickly, and becomes worse without instant and aggressive treatment. At the stage Ponyboy is in now, I would highly recommend chemotherapy, it would probably be most effective."

Soda had finally found his voice. "What exactly is chemotherapy?"

Dr. Mitchells smiled a little. " Excellent question, Sodapop. Chemotherapy is kind of like a poison that kills of cancer cells, however, it kills of regular cells, too, and that's why it makes you so sick. Chemo for Acute Myeloid leukemia had two different stages: Induction and Consulidation. The goal of Induction is to rid the blood of all leukemia cells, and reduce the number of immature cells in the bone marrow. This involves about a week of chemo, and then several weeks' stay in the hospital. This process will be repeated several times, but with breaks in between to allow some time at home. Now the second stage, Consulidation, is more aggressive, but crucial. You see, Induction usually doesn't kill all of the leukemia cells, which is why we have Consulidation. If Consulidation is not put into effect, than the leukemia will almost certainly return in a few months. If progress is not shown between these two stages, then in some cases a transplant is necessary. But this is all up to you three, you can make the decisions for what you want. Would you like some time alone to discuss?"

We all three nodded. "Holler when you're done," he said, and stepped out into the hall. I let out a sigh "So..."

Darry sighed, too. "Pony," he asked. "Are you all right?"

I nodded shakily. "Yes. I mean, kind of. I mean, not now, but I will be. I can beat this." Soda started sniffling. I didn't realize just how big this was, how this was going to affect us.

"Pony!" he cried, his voice cracking, "We can't lose you!" My eyes got moist. I was scared and sad and guilty.

I whimpered. "I'm scared," I whispered. "I don't want to die." I started trembling. I was starting to panic again, remembering stories I had read about people with cancer, and all it can do to you. My eyes were threatening to spill over. Soda's already had. He was bawling. I slid into his arms, trembling harder than ever. He started stroking my hair, and that set me off.

"Guys," said Darry, coming around from the other side of the desk. "Guys, don't cry, everything's gonna be all right, we're gonna be fine..." he hugged us both, and we sat there silently, getting out our worries.

A cough from outside brought us back to reality. "Well, we gotta decide what treatment we're going to do." Darry said.

"No." Soda said. "I think that should be Pony's decision, he's the one who will have to go through it."

"Agreed." said Darry. They both looked at me. Well, it wasn't a hard decision to make. I wanted to use whatever was most effective. According to Dr. Mitchell, chemo would be effective. So that was what I wanted.

"I want to do chemo." I told a surprised Darry and Soda.

"Are you sure? It's gonna make you really sick and tired." Darry warned. Soda nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure." I said quietly. "It'll give me a better chance."

**DARRY'S POV**

I'm still shocked. I can't believe this, it's so unreal. This kind of stuff only happens to other people. That's what I said when my parents died. But we've turned into one of those people. The people who have newspaper articles talking about courage and how hard it is to fight. God. I'm so scared, we can't lose Ponyboy, too. I wish I could go back and take away all the bad things I've said to him. I regret our fights so much now.

"Darry." A voice broke into my thoughts. "Are we going to call Dr. Mitchell back in now?"

"Course," I said, and called him back in.

"So, have you made your decision?"

"I want to do chemo." Pony spoke up.

"Excellent. This is how it's going to work. We'll start chemo on Friday, that way Darry and Soda can stay for the next couple days without missing work. You're going to have a private room for chemo. Let me warn you, chemo is not pleasant. It'll make you really sick to your stomach and tired and pretty weak. You'll lose your hair," Pony made a weird noise between a squeak and a groan. He was proud of his hair. "You will continue chemo for a couple more days, recover in a private room for a couple more days, and have another week of recovery in a room with a roommate, who will also have AML. You will then probably go home for a couple days, no longer than a week, just to be at home for a little. Then you'll come back and repeat the chemo cycle. Well do this several times. At that point, if necessary, we will preform a transplant, of either red blood cells or bone marrow. The we'll start Consulidation, which will be the same as chemo, but more aggressive. After several rounds of that, we'll be done. Then you'll probably never have to come back again, except to of course visit your favorite Dr.s, preferably one named Dr. Mitchell." He winked at Pony, who grinned. "Now, I know you have questions, so ask away."

"Will I be able to go to school? Or run track?" Leave it to Ponyboy to ask something like that at a time like this.

"Unfourtunatly, no. Your immune system will be weakened and the germs at school would make you sick again. As for track, I think you know the answer."

Pony nodded. Poor kid. He loved track. We spent a couple more hours in there, discussing everything. I was completely loaded down with papers and pamphlets, all with grim headings and horrible diagrams.

"Well, any more questions?" Dr. Mitchell asked. We all shook our heads. We had talked ourselves hoarse. "All right, you can go. Chemo will start Friday morning. No school, Pony, and get lots of rest."

Pony just nodded. In the haste and shock of everything, I had forgotten that he still was sick and running a fever. Poor kid must be exhausted.

"Soda, Pony, can you guys wait in the hall for a minute? I need to talk to Dr. Mitchell, alone." They left, and I was finally able to ask the question that had been worrying me something fierce.

"Dr. Mitchell, what am I going to do about money? I can't afford this. As you know, our parents died two months ago. I work two jobs, and Soda dropped out to work, but this is huge. There is no way we can afford this."

Dr. Mitchell looked sympathetic. "Darry, I don't want you worrying abut that right now. You have a family that needs you. Just pay what you can, there are many organizations that I'm sure would be more than happy to help. Just take care of him, this is going to be tough."

"Alright. And Dr. Mitchell?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." I meant it. He smiled, genuinely.

"You're welcome, son. Now get going."

I walked out of the office, now realizing how much time had passed. It was getting dark out. Soda and Pony were sitting on the floor. Well, Soda was sitting on the floor. Pony was stretched out, half asleep, head in Soda's lap. Soda was fiddling absently with Pony's reddish-brown hair. He looked really shaken.

"Hey," I whispered, so I wouldn't wake Pony. "You okay?" Soda nodded. "I guess. It's just a lot to handle, you know? First Mom and Dad, now this..." he sighed deeply, his voice trailing off.

"I know it, Little Buddy." I said. "But life just ain't fair. Plus, we got to be strong for Pony."

Soda gave a half-smile. "Funny," he said. "Seems it should be the other way around. And not just health-wise, either."

"C'mon," I said. "We need to get home. Tell the gang." Oh, Lord, I was dreading it. I shook Pony's arm gently. "Hey, Pone, let's get home now."

He moaned weakly, his eyes focusing on me. "I don't feel good, Dar." he said, his voice exhausted.

"I know kiddo." I said softly. "Come on, let's get home and you can lie down." he stumbled to his feet. Soda put his arm around him and guided him down the hall. Most of doors were closed, but one was open, and I could hear soft voices coming out of it. I didn't mean to look in, exactly, but I got a glimpse and saw Mrs. Dunthers sitting next to a bed, talking softly. She happened to glance up as we walked past.

"Darry," she called out softly, for the sake of the kid in the bed. "Everything all right?" I shook my head mutely. I wasn't feeling very talkative right then. "AML," I said gesturing to Pony. She looked shocked. It really must be rare in kids.

"Oh, my God." she said. "I'm sorry."

Pony attempted a grin, but coughed. "It's all right." Mrs. Dunthers nodded at the boy in the bed next to her.

"This here is Daniel, my son." The kid sat up. He looked sick, all right, but had a smile so big that I thought his face would crack. It was like looking at a younger Sodapop. "Hey!" Daniel exclaimed.

Pony smiled weakly. "Hey." Pony was fading fast. I think Mrs. Dunthers noticed, too, because she said, "Oh, don't let us keep you, you three must be pretty tired." Then she looked surprised. "I thought there was just two of you."

Oh, she hadn't met Soda yet. "Oh, this is our brother, Sodapop."

"Most people call me Soda, though." he interjected. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. You too, Daniel."

Everyone exchanged goodbyes and we left. "They seem nice." said Soda.

"Yeah, I met Mrs. Dunthers in thre waiting room. She actually seemed to get it, you dig?"

"Yeah, they seem pretty tuff." Pony practically whispered. We got out to the parking lot. Soda had borrowed Steve's car to get here, but he wanted to ride with Pony in the back, so we just figured Steve could get it tomorrow. Pony stretched out in the backseat, Soda next to him. I slid into the drivers seat, and we started home.

**PONY'S POV**

We were about halfway home when I started feeling nauseous. I knew that I should probably tell Darry or Soda, but I didn't want to worry them even more. So I just breathed deeply, slowly, in and out, in and out, willing myself not to puke in the car. No such luck. My stomach lurched.

"Soda," I said urgently, lifting my head off his shoulder. "I'm really nauseous."

"S***. Darry, pull over." Darry swerved over jerkily, which didn't help matters. "What's wrong?"

"Pony's really nauseous." Darry quickly forked over a bag and passed it back to Soda, who opened it under me. Just in time. I gagged and Soda held my head over the bag as I threw up. Ugh. I just kept heaving, but there was nothing left in my stomach. I stopped heaving, my breathing returned to normal, and I leaned back in the seat, covered in sweat.

"You all right now, Pone?" Darry asked gently from up front.

"Yeah, I'm okay now," I said. I wasn't really, but I didn't really want to dwell on it. "Was that normal?"

"Yeah," said Soda. I remember he said that until chemo, it's just gonna be like you have the flu." I nodded.

Darry started driving again. "You feel like your gonna get sick again, just holler and I'll pull over." I just nodded and leaned back against Soda. He rubbed my back comfortingly, and I slept the rest of the way home.

Soda shook me awake when we got home. I walked in the house in a daze. I was so out of it, I didn't even notice that the whole gang was in the living room. I just trudged down the hall to my room, pulled off my t-shirt and jeans, and crawled into bed. I distantly heard Soda and Darry telling the gang, their shocked voices, someone talking on the phone. I remember Soda coming in with a glass of water and moving the trashcannot closer to my bed. Before I fell into a deep sleep, I remember thinking: _Ponyboy, you got a long road ahead of you. But you gotta fight till the end._

**Author's Note: I struggled immensely with that chapter. I'm not sure why, but it was extremely difficult to write. Was it obvious? Let me know how it was! REVIEW! Also, happy birthday to Two-Bit, it was on the 20th! Happy birthday, you crazy greaser ;) Also, I changed some information, like I'm not sure chemo would be most effective, and with AML, they don't repeat chemo, but I wanted to add that to my story. The rest is real, though! I'm excited to introduce new charecters in the next chapter! Thanks, Stay Gold! -Emily ;) :)**

**I GOT INFO FROM THIS WEBSITE: Acute Myeloid Leukemia: Syptoms, Diagnosis, treatment... (there was more but it got cut off and I couldn't copy/paste ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**SADLY**,** I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Well, hey there, guys! I hope everyone's having an awesome and safe summer! I am, the rest of my summer is going to be awesome! On Saturday, a bunch of my friends and I are getting together for a sleepover. On Monday, I'm leaving for Texas, and the day after I get back, I have dance camp for a month. Then, we might go on a family vacation, then I start eighth grade. Yayyy! WARNING: I might be going places without wi-fi, and I use my iPod for everything, so there might be gaps between my updates :( **

**Several people commented that this kind of treatment wasn't available in the 60s. Thanks for letting me know, but I'm just going to pretend that it is, cause I'm too lazy to find alternative treatments! Haha.**

**KMP88: I will add new charecters, but probably won't include Cherry or Bob or Randy, cause Pony doesn't know them; the book hasn't happened. I might throw in the Shepards gang a little, I might not, it depends ;)**

**Kay, I'll start now. Enjoy!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 4: Needles and Nathan

**PONY'S POV**

When I woke up next, blinding, golden sunlight was streaming through the curtians. It was a beautiful, golden day, but I felt anything but that. For starters, I still felt pretty sick. My head was pounding and aching, I was nauseous, and I felt weak and dizzy. But that wasn't the worst of it. The way I felt was the worst: worthless and helpless. I was consumed with guilt. I knew deep down that I couldn't help getting cancer, but my conscious was telling me otherwise. I knew that this wasn't going to be cheap; the bills would pile up and I would be a burden to everyone. I was miserable.

But after a few minutes of laying there and feeling sorry for myself, I realized that this was my last free day for a long time, and I certainly wasn't going to waste it lying around in bed, so I slowly eased myself out of bed and stumbled down the hallway to the kitchen. I had a sinking feeling of gloom in my stomach, I walked slower and slower but I already knew: the gang was here. Had they already been told? I couldn't remember, everything was pretty fuzzy after the appointment. I hoped Darry and Soda had told the gang, but then again, I didn't want to be showered with sympathy and worry when I walked in. Oh well, I was going to find out soon enough anyway.

I could tell that everyone knew as soon as I walked into the kitchen. There was a kind of solemnness, heaviness to the air that had only been there once, when Mom and Dad died. Everyone was sprawled over the place as usual: Darry cooking French toast at the stove, Soda messing around with Steve while eating chocolate cake, Johnny stretched out on the couch, Two-Bit on the floor, both watching Mickey, and Dally talking in low tones to Darry. Seems normal, right? Wrong. Everyone seemed quieter, worried,scared even. And it was all my fault.

I slipped into the kitchen, hoping not to be noticed, but of course, with these guys, they noticed everything. Darry hurried on over, led me over to the armchair, and sat me down.

"Dr. Mitchell says you need to get a lot of rest today, so take it easy today, alright?" I nodded. Darry continued, "So how you feeling, Pone?"

"Sick." I managed to croak out. God, I must look so pathetic and weak. Soda came over and felt my forehead.

"You still have a fever. Listen, Pony, we told the gang last night." I had known all along. I tried to grin at them. "I know, I think I heard you guys talking last night." I didn't know what to say. There was a terrible awkward silence, a rarity in out gang. Thankfully, Two-But spoke up:

"Yeah, we were talking pretty loud. I'm real sorry this had to happen, Pony, after what you guys had to go through..." He trailed off. Johnny interjected quietly from the couch,

"Don't worry Pony, well be there for you. Plus, on the bright side, you don't have to take exams." That broke the tension. Everyone started laughing, one because Johnny rarely speaks, but he has pretty good sense of humor when he does, and two, it was nice to have an excuse to laugh at something.

After that, we went on with our usual routine, as normally as we could. Two-Bit, Johnny, and Steve went to school. Darry and Dally headed off to work. Soda had the day off, his boss, Mitch, gave him the day off when he heard the circumstances. It was great. We hung out and talked. I slept. It was just like any other normal day.

But you can only pretend for so long. We had to make the calls. School, my track coach, Darry and Soda's work, the insurance company, some friends, Mrs. Matthews, Dr. Wardley. And all these phone calls just kept screaming in my face that nothing was ever going to be the same again. I wish I could say that I did something productive, something memorable that day, but I didn't. I dozed all throughout the late morning and early afternoon. After everyone got home from school, I fell asleep again, on the couch. Darry woke me up around 7, saying he had made dinner, but I didn't think my stomach could manage. He made me sit down with everyone anyway, and made me eat a little bit, but 10 minutes later I was puking my guts out in the bathroom. And I was back to miserable again, everything was a reminder of how sick I was. We were leaving early that morning, I wouldn't be seeing the gang before we left. It was kind of rough, i didn't know if I was going to see them again. I turned to them.

"Guys," I said, my voice cracking, "I'm sorry you gotta deal with this, I know it ain't easy on ya, you guys have always been there for me. And I appriciate it. Thanks." I let out a shaky breath. Johnnycakes was practically in tears by now. We hugged each other and told each other to "Stay Gold." I'm not sure when that started, but we've always done it. And every time, without fail, the gang looks at us like we're crazy. Two-Bit was all serious for once, messing up my hair and tackling me carefully to the floor. Dally looked pained as he, too, messed up my hair (what is it with them doing that?) and saying, "Take care, kid." Steve punched my arm, but lighter then usual, which was a promising sign. Then they were gone.

I collapsed into bed the moment they left. Sleep took over me, and I slept all night, never waking once.

************************************************************** Friday dawned cold, grey, and early. I woke up feeling like it was the morning of something important, like getting up early for a track competition or vacation. You know the feeling? I desperately wished it was true. We were quiet, not talking much. I packed a bag, stuffed full with books and other necessities. I didn't eat breakfast; Dr. Mitchell had advised coming on an empty stomach. I took a long last look around the house, trying to remember every last detail. The rip in the striped wall paper in the kitchen, the scuffed surface of the wooden kitchen table, the faded blue shag carpet, the old yellow armchair that no one sat in but me, the smooth glass covered, triangular clock on the mantle, the dent in the living room wall, a result of Johnny and I's football game when we were 8 and 10. There were so many memories, so many things I never bothered to pay attention. God, I wished I paid more attention, did more things... Great, now I was getting sentimental. I blinked back tears as I got into the car. Our rusty metal gate clanged shut behind us as I left behind my house, and my childhood.

We arrived at the oncology ward of Tulsa General at exactly 8 am. Darry signed me in. Thank God there was no paperwork; he had stopped by the hospital yesterday after work to take care of that. My stomach was in knots as Dr. Mitchell came strolling on down the hallway, smiling.

"Ponyboy!" he exclaimed, an unbelievable amount of energy in his voice. "Pleasure as always. Glad you're on time. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

He chuckled. "Like that kind of attitude! Now I'm just going to quickly introduce you to your nurse and roommate. You'll be sharing a room with him after you've been through chemo. You can leave most of your stuff there, too."

I nodded. The four of us walked on down the white hallways. Dr. Mitchell paused at a white door with the numbers 476 stenciled neatly in black on it. He opened the door gently. It was an average-sized room. There were two hospital beds, a curtain between them for privacy. I supposed that I got the bed nearest to the door because it was empty. There was a women adjusting various tubes at the other bed. She was dressed all in white, she was of avarage height with a sturdy, solid build. Her thick, wavy, chestnut brown hair was slightly streaked with grey. It hung to the small of her back. Dr. Mitchell cleared his throat.

"Ponyboy, this is Maggie, she'll be your nurse probably most of the time you're here. "Maggie, this is Ponyboy Curtis."

She turned and smiled at me. Her eyes were dark blue. She looked a couple years older then Mom was when she died. "Hello, Ponyboy. It's nice to meet you."

"You, too."

"And this is Nathan, your roommate." Dr. Mitchell said. I finally got a look at the boy in the bed. He was extremely pale, and bruises decorated his arms. He was skinny and bald, and hooked up to various machines. His eyes were what got me. They were a strange mixture of Johnny and Dally's eyes; tough and determined, but with hidden fear underneath. He merely nodded his head at me. I nodded back.

"He's usually pretty talkative," said Maggie, "But he just recently had chemo and it's pretty draining." I nodded again.

"Alright, let's get rolling!" said Dr. Mitchell. We left and walked down a maze of hallways. We stopped at a section of cubicles, seperated by curtains. He opened one of the curtains, and we stepped inside. It was a smaller version of the other room, with just one bed. There were machines with dangling tubes in the corner, waiting for me.

"You can go sit down on the bed." said Dr. Mitchell. I sat, and Darry and Soda pulled up a couple of plastic chairs by my bed.

"Okay, we're going to put in a couple of I.V.s, and we have to hook you up to a heart moniter, too." He caught my expression. "I know, you don't really need it, but it's hospital policy. Then we'll put in another I.V., which will have the chemo medicine you need. You'll always have a nurse or doctor in here, just in case. Now, again, this is going to make you really sick. There's the trash can." He gestured to beside the bed. "You'll be in here for about three days, but chemo will only last for today. The side affects will stretch over the next few days, though. That's about it. Any questions?"

We all shook our heads. "Excellent. Let's get started, then."

I leaned back against the pillows and shut my eyes as the cold metal pierced my skin. The relentless, steady beeping of the heart moniter started. I gripped Darry and Soda's hands as Dr. Mitchell slid the last needle into my arm, and the clear liquid started to drip from the bag down the tube and into my system. Chemo had begun.

**Author's Note: Ughhh I'm tired. It's 3:08 in the morning. I tried to fall asleep for two hours, and even though I was really tired, I couldn't sleep. So I just wrote this whole chapter. Haha. So, what did you guys thing? Let me know in a review, please! Thanks! I'm going to sleep now. See ya! Stay Gold! -Emily ;) :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! IF I DID, I WOULD BE LIVING IN TULSA AND DATING PONYBOY! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S.**** E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Lol. I just watched The Karate Kid (starring the one and only Ralph Macchio (Johnny in the Outsiders movie.) The whole time I was like "Go Johnnycakes! You got this! Do it for Johnny, do it for Johnny!" I thought it was ironic that Johnny (Ralph) was fighting Johnny (that was the other charecters name.) Haha. Also, I'm leaving for Texas tomorrow and there's no wi-fi where we're staying, so I won't be updating for like 5 days. Sorry ;) Thanks for all the reviews, too. You guys are awesome! Alright on with the story!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 5: Killer Chemo

**SODA'S POV**

_Drip, drip. Beep, Beep. _The noises were driving me crazy. It was silent except for the chemo medicine dripping from the drip bag, through the tube, and into Pony's arm. And then there was the heart moniter. I think I hated it even more then Pony did. It was a if they could just measure my little brother's life as nothing more then a long zigzagging line. My worst fear was the dreaded flat line. Oh, God. I was so scared of that.

Chemo had begun 10 minutes ago. Pony was lying still on the bed, eyes closed, but I knew he wasn't sleeping. I wanted to talk to Darry, for him to comfort me, but we had no privacy. There was a nurse sitting in a plastic chair in the corner, making me feel extremely uncomfortable. If it was Maggie, I would have been okay with it. We had only just met her, but she seemed so friendly, and she was going to be Pony's permenant nurse. We were probably going to get to know her pretty well, and it would have been nice to get a head's start on that. But this nurse was pale and bony, with suspicious eyes that matched her pale skin. She looked really uptight and unfriendly. Great.

Dr. Mitchell stuck his head around the corner.

"He doing okay so far?"

"Yeah, he's alright." Darry said. Dr. Mitchell came into the room, holding a needle.

"Just have to draw some blood,"he said, injecting the needle into Ponyboy's arm.

"Didn't you just do that?" I asked. Dr. Mitchell smiled. "Yes. We draw blood frequently, though, to check on his progress. He gotten sick yet?" We shook our heads.

"Good, maybe it won't affect him as badly. The longer it takes for syptoms to show, the better. It means they're stronger, more resistant."

"What other syptoms are there?" Darry inquired worriedly. "I couldn't find a page on them in those papers you gave me." I smiled a little and shook my head. Darry stayed up all last night, pouring over those papers. He didn't want Ponyboy to have to see them.

"The common, short-term syptoms start with anaemia. Anaemia makes you extremely tired, and some people find it hard to catch their breath. It's usually not too serious, but if it does get serious, we'll do blood transfusions. Chemo also weakens your immune system making it hard to fight off infections. He'll also be tired, weak, have constant vomiting, possible mouth sores, and hair loss. He probably won't lose his hair until the second or third round of chemo, though."

I was worried. And this was supposed to be _helping _Pony? No way. Dr. Mitchell caught my expression.

"I know, it seems as if it's doing him more harm then help. It's helping him tremendously, we just can't see it."

I nodded. We sat there for a minute, until a nasally voice broke over the loudspeaker.

_Kenneth Mitchell, please report to room 701. Kenneth Mitchell, 701" _Dr. Mitchell got to his feet.

"I've got to run. I'll drop in later. Good luck!" We thanked him, and then he was gone. I sighed. Darry and I looked at each other.

Before we could say anything, Pony started to stir. He opened his eyes weakly.

"Hey Pone," said Darry gently. "How do you feel?"

"Tired." Pony mumbled. I stroked his hair. Why did this happen to us? To him? Pony didn't deserve this. He was always so good.

Suddenly, Pony went pale. Darry was fast-moving, grabbing the basin from the bedside table and holding it under him. He gagged and heaved. I rubbed circles on his back and Darry talked to him softly and I wondered, how anyone deserved this.

**PONY'S POV**

I cringed as I heaved again, panting and breathless. Soda stroked my hair, Darry kept mutterimg that everything would be all right. But it wouldn't. I would surely die, there was no way I could go through this over 5 times. I finished and Soda wiped my mouth with a tissue.

"You okay, Pony?" I nodded, too tired to talk. "It'll all be over soon." I nodded again, taking deep breaths as my stomach flipped again. My stomach contracted and I heaved again. Darry held my head over the basin as I threw up again. It hurt so badly, my stomach was empty, so it was basically stomach acid. Tears of pain stung my eyes. God. I wanted to die. This was a living h***. There was no way out. I leaned back against Soda's shoulder, completly exhausted. The room was spinning. I just wanted this to be over.

I don't know how much time passed. It felt like hours. For hours, all I did was throw up. I was so dizzy, I clung to the edges of my bed to keep from falling off. Dr. Mitchell came in every half hour to test my blood. Maggie came in, too. She checked my tubes, then sat down. She talked to Darry and Soda for a long time. I couldn't follow their conversation, everything was just a tangled, dizzying blur of voices. It made me so dizzy that I started throwing up again. I could feel everyone comforting me, but everything was just a blur. I just wanted to be done, I felt so sick I couldn't bear it. But I couldn't afford to look weak. So I set my jaw straight and didn't complain.

My mouth was sore and felt disgusting. My throat was completley dry. I was dying for a drink of water, anything. But when I managed to ask Dr. Mitchell, he said I wouldn't be able to keep it down, and I couldn't eat or drink anything. I agreed, but then he did something worse. He brought in another I.V. to "keep me hydrated." The pain wasn't really the problem, my arm was so numb from all the needles that I couldn't feel it, anyway. It was bad because the tube was really short and I could barely move. I felt like I was literally tied down to the bed. And it made me feel calstraphobic.

My head was aching and pounding now. I put my head in Darry's lap and tried to keep from throwing up. I could tell that it was getting dark out; there were vents in the ceiling that must connect to the roof. _It's gotta be almost over,_ I thought as I emptied my stomach again, _it has to be time now. _Sure enough, Dr. Mitchells came in 10 minutes later, informing me that chemo was over. He took out the chemo I.V. I was shocked that that was the mildest level. I didn't care, though. I was done. Dr. Mitchell congratulated me on getting through it. Darry and Soda both hugged me. I could barely keep my eyes open. I just smiled at them the best that I could, fell back onto my pillows, and fell asleep instantly.

**DARRY'S POV**

He was done. Thank God. I didn't know how I got through it. It was absolute torture watching my little brother suffer like that. I felt totally helpless. I mean, I acted like I was in control, like I had a plan. It was a mechanical sort of process; help him sit up, hold his head while he throws up, comfort him, wipe his mouth, lay him back down, hold his hand, encourage him. I may have appeared calm, but it took every bit of my self-restraint to not run out of the room. I felt so awful not being able to do anything. Then I felt selfish for feeling sorry for my self when I should be feeling sorry for Pony. Then I would worry about the money and hospital bills. Then I would feel guilty all over again for worrying about that when I should be helping Pony. Soda, too, this was killing him, but I had to give him credit, he was really calm.

I wanted my parents. I was still just a kid myself, a teenager even. I was turning 20 next month. My parents would know just what to do. And me? I was as clueless as you can get.

It was around 7:00 pm. Ponyboy was finally asleep, and Soda had fallen asleep in the chair next to his bed, holding his hand. I smiled, they were so close. That was when I realized how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast, and neither had Sodapop.

"Maggie," I whispered, so I wouldn't wake up Pony or Soda. She looked up from the magazine she was reading. "I'm going down to the cafeteria to get Soda and I something to eat. Can you make sure they're okay?"

She smiled. "Of course, honey. Go on ahead."

I thanked her and slipped out of our cubicle and into the hallway. I let out a sigh. First time I had been out of it in 11 hours. I walked down the long hallway, until I finally got out into the oncology ward waiting room. From there, I took the elevator down to the cafeteria. When I got there, I was just going to get whatever I saw and go, but a familiar voice called my name.

"Darry!"

I turned to see Elizabeth Dunthers waving from a table. With her was a man who I assumed was her husband, and two kids; a girl who looked around 8 and a boy around 16. They all looked almost exactly alike. I was glad to see her, I needed to talk to someone besides doctors for a change of pace. I went on over.

"Hi, Mrs. Dunthers."

"Hello, Darry. This is my husband, John, my daughter, Skylar, and my son Thomas."

I said hi to them and she introduced me. I asked how Daniel was doing.

"Oh, he's fine, should be able to go home in a couple of days. How is Ponyboy?"

I wasn't sure how to respond, I didn't really know if he was okay or not. "It was a bit of a rough day, he had his first chemo session today."

They all looked at me sympathetically, even Skylar. It hit then just how much this can affect people.

"I remember when Danny had his first session." John spoke up. "Not fun, that's for sure." Mrs. Dunthers nodded in agreement. "It's nice that your parents let you be there for him," she said. "I didn't let Skylar or Thomas come to Daniel's."

I winced. Mom and Dad. I tried to act casual, but pain was stabbing at me like a knife. "Acctually, I'm Pony and Soda's legal guardian. Our parents died two months ago in a car wreck."

Mrs. Dunthers's eyes got huge, John looked apologetic, and the two kids looked awkward. "Oh my God," said Mrs. Dunthers. "I'm so sorry, Darrel, I had no idea..."

"That's alright." I said briefly. Again, I didn't want to get into it. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well," I said, getting to my feet. "I'd better be getting back now."

Mrs. Dunthers nodded, still looking guilty. "Alright, Darry. Well see you later."

I nodded. The rest of the family said bye, too, then I went to the food line. I just got us each a turkey sandwich and coke, paid, and headed back upstairs. The talk with the Dunthers had made me feel kind of down. I just really needed my parents now. And then I started feeling guilty, because I was suddenly remembering all the times I had yelled at Pony, for now seemingly unimportant things.

I arrived at Pony's room, went in and found Pony half-sitting up, breathing hard, and holding Soda's hand tightly. Soda was trying to look comforting, but he looked scared. Maggie was adding something to his I.V. I hurried over.

"Pony, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, though he was obviously not. "Ive just got a killer headache."

I turned to Maggie worriedly. "A headache? Dr. Mitchell didn't list that as one of the side affects."

Maggie nodded. "It's not. It's probably nothing to worry about, I just put him on a pain medication. I'll go get Dr. Mitchell though, just in case."

She left. I sat on the edge of the bed, and wondered how much more stress I was going to be able to take.

**Author's Note: Done! I can try to do another chapter tonight, but I need sleep, I'm getting up at 4 in the morning to catch our plane for Texas! I worried though, we're going to a part where they have deadly scorpions that can kill you. :0 Hopefully I won't get bitten, but if I never update again, then you'll know what happened. Haha. Also, HAPPY ALMOST 4th OF JULY! A bit early, but oh well. Hope everyone has fun. Btw, to all you foreign readers, we celebrate the 4th of July cause it's the day that we declared our independence. So, happy summer, then, to the foreign people! ;) Review, please! Thanks! Stay Gold! -Emily ;)**


	6. Chapter 6: Fights Don't Make Rights

**SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: I know, I know. 12 days since I've updated. Unacceptable. Sorry! I was in Texas, then started dance camp on Monday. Eight hours straight of dancing can really wear a person out. I've been too tired to do anything except shower and sleep when I get home. I had an excellent 4th of July, hope everyone else did, too. Had an awesome time in Texas, except I got insanely sunburned :( I appriciate your reviews so much! I wish I could thank all of you personally, I try to PM most people, but of I don't to some of you, don't worry, I'm gonna mention everyone in the last chapter!**

**Also, you may have noticed that reviewer #50, "Guest," is actually my twin sister, Julianne. Pretty funny how it happened, really. Mainly cause I have never told anyone I'm writing this, not for any reason. 2 hours before we woke up to leave for the airport, at 2 in the morning, she came marching into my room, woke me up, and goes, "How come you didn't tell me you were writing the most amazing Fanfic story ever?" I was totally shocked, because I didn't know she even knew fanfic _existed, _let alone read my stories. Apparently, she had heard of Fanfic, and that night she randomly got on it, and the first story she read was mine. She was able to tell it was me cause of my profile, I said I was leaving for Texas, so on, so forth. Haha. Anyway, on with the story! Enjoy!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 6: Fights Don't Make Rights

**PONY'S POV**

Pain. Blinding, white-hot, eye-watering pain. I'd had plenty of headaches before, but never like this. It felt like someone had sliced through the top of my head. I could only grit my teeth, close my eyes, and pray that this wasn't serious. Pray that Dr. Mitchell would be here soon. Heck, pray that _all _of this would be over soon.

Why was I praying? I was angry, angry at God. Why was he punishing me? Hadn't he already taken my parents? Now this? Why was he making my brothers, friends, and I suffer? He wasn't trying to teach me a lesson. I had seen all of those brochures, and they were strewn about the hospital. One was titled: **Understanding and Coping With Illness**. It was worse than the crap that Curly Sheppard was loaded down with every time he came back from reform school. I just didn't get it. The brochures constantly repeated that God has a plan for us, that this is part of it, and we need to put our faith in him. I used to. I actually have gone to church pretty often, even after Mom and Dad were gone. I had always trusted God to help me make my life easier in the long run. I had always been grateful to him. And this is how He repaid me? I'm just confused. Flat out confused. But even so, I prayed anyway.

The curtain was drawn back. Maggie walked in, followed by Dr. Mitchell, who was carrying an assortment of needles. Great.

Dr. Mitchell nodded at Darry and Soda, and turned to me. "Maggie tells me you've got a headache." I nodded. He pressed on, "Can you describe the pain? Dull or sharp? Where is it in your head?"

"It's kind of a sharp pain, and in my temples." I told him. He nodded, brow furrowing. "I'm gonna draw some more blood and run a couple tests, this isn't s common side effect. Well have the results by tomorrow, probably." I nodded.

Soda spoke up. "Meanwhile, can you give him something for pain?"

Dr. Mitchell smiled. "Of course. I believe Maggie gave you some pain meds, but I'm going to give a stronger dose." He inserted another I.V. It's a bad sign when it's only day 1 in the hospital, and needles don't even bug you anymore. He took a little more blood, and then he was off again. Maggie sat in her chair, and began reading another one of her endless magazines.

The pain meds kicked in after about 20 minutes. They got rid of my headache, all right, but they made me even more tired, if that was possible. I tried to stay awake, but Soda stroked my hair and told me to go to sleep, and that's just what I did.

I woke up, feeling so worn out that I didn't even open my eyes. I kept them shut tight, hoping to fall back asleep, but I heard voices whispering, and naturally, being curious, listened in.

"No way." Soda's voice, unusually sharp, whispered angrily. "We are _not _selling it."

"Sodapop." Darry's exasperated voice broke in. "Get real. Do you have any idea how much this costs? A few extra shifts at the DX ain't gonna cover this. This is expensive. Really expensive. And there's no way were going to be able to continue treatments without the money. And without treatments, you know what would happen."

I stiffened. My heart was pounding under my chest. Sell what? If it was making Sodapop this upset, then it must be big; Soda hardly ever gets mad about anything.

"Darry, do you have any clue how mad he would be if he found out? You know how he is! The guilt would kill him. And we can't sell it. It's, like one of the only memories left of her that we have."

My stomach clenched and gave a nauseating lurch. The pieces all fit together. Mom's wedding ring. They wanted to sell _Mom's wedding ring._

My eyes flew open, I sat straight up, and promptly threw up everything in my stomach into the basin. Soda gently took hold of my shoulders as I heaved again, and Darry patted my back. I gasped for air. Mom's wedding ring was one of the only keepsakes we had left. They didn't know what happened to Dad's , it wasn't on his finger when they asked us to ID the body. We assumed it had been lost in the crash. Mom's sparkly diamond ring was still glinting on her finger. Darry gently removed it from her finger, and put it in his pocket. It was stored away now, under a floorboard in a box with other valuables, under Mom and Dad's bed. Even though they had only been gone for 2, almost 3, months, there was a time we almost had to sell it. 3 weeks after the funeral, Soda was still in school, Darry wasn't getting paid full-time yet, and we were real bad off. But we kept the ring and managed to pull through. But this was ridiculous. We were _not _selling it.

Soda rubbed circles on my back. "Pone," he asked gently. "Are you all right now?"

"No." I managed to choke out. "Cause you're not selling it."

Darry and Soda exchanged a look that clearly said, _"D*** it, he onto us," _and _"Deny," _but it was too late. I was onto them. And I was furious.

"Are you crazy?" I half-screamed. "Sell Mom's wedding ring? You do realize that's the only thing left of her we have? We can't sell it. We're not selling."

Darry was starting to get the old look on his face, the mask face that he used to get before we got in a fight. His icy eyes were blazing with a cold fire.

"Ponyboy." he said in a controlled voice, obviously trying to control his temper. "You do realize we're broke. We were hard up before all this happened. And now we could really use the money. Now stop being difficult and go back to sleep."

I was annoyed and grumpy. I felt bad for Darry and Soda; they had been sitting in uncomfortable, plastic hospital chairs for 13 hours straight. That didn't change the fact that I was still angry at Darry and he was still angry at me.

"Well, you heard Dr. Mitchell," I argued."He says there are organizations that will help out."

Darry looked even angrier."First Soda, now you! Do t you understand that we are not going to accept money from some d** charity!"

Soda tried to interject then. "C'mon you guys are just tired. We should all get some sleep. We can talk about this in the morn-"

Darry cut him off. "No, we're not going to talk about this in the morning. What good is that going to do? No, we're going to discuss this now."

I was getting really frustrated now. Couldn't he see I didn't want to talk about this now? It was just making me guilty and stressed. And I was really starting to feel sick now.

Darry kept ranting on. "Look, Mom and Dad would want us to sell it. Why can't you understand that? They know we're desperate. So let's just sell the d*** thing already."

Soda was going pale. I could feel my heart rate starting to speed up. I was so stressed and tired, and just wanted to sleep. Darry just kept on yelling.

I felt dizzy as a sharp beeping noise cut through the air. The room spun. My heart moniter.

**DARRY'S POV**

God, I did not plan on any of this happening. I was so incredibly tired. I had a crick in my neck and a stiff back from sitting in that stupid plastic chair for hours. I had a horrible headache from waiting so long before eating. I was annoyed at this whole situation, we shouldn't even be here. I was sad from watching poor Pony suffer for hours. I was just flat out stressed. Then I tried to explain the money situation to Soda, and my plan, and he flipped out. That woke Ponyboy up, and he reacted even worse than Soda. Then I felt the familiar feeling; the anger, the exasperation, the frustration, the inability to understand. Before I knew it, we were fighting like the old days. Then that stupid heart moniter started beeping double time, and I was silently panicking, wrestling down my guilt.

Maggie had been sitting in the corner, quietly, and without interfering, but now she flew over to the bed and started examining Pony and the machines and I.V.s. Soda was panicking, comforting Pony, and shooting me furious glances. And me? I stood there like a bumbling idiot, not doing a thing.

Pony was really pale, leaning back on his pillows. I felt horrible already for fighting with him like that. Why didn't I see that he's sick and tired and needs to rest? Soda always tells me that I need to understand him and put myself in his shoes, but I can't. I honestly can't remember a thing about being 13, can't remember how it feels. I just how too much responsibility now, 13 was a long time ago. But I still should have had enough sense to not fight with him.

"What's the matter with him?" Soda said frantically, in a much higher voice than usual. "Why is that machine beeping?"

Maggie was fiddling with the machine, and Pony's tubes. "His blood pressure went up a little. Ponyboy, could you relax for me?"

He nodded, eyes closed. The machine went back to its steady, rythmitic beeping.

"Thanks. Go to sleep now, alright? You'll feel better." He nodded again, and relaxed. In a couple of minutes, he started breathing slowly and deeply. Maggie turned to Soda and I.

"I need to ask you guys not discuss stuff like that with him now, okay? At this point, he's just worn out, and he shouldn't be doing anything strenuous. Fighting is defiantly exhausting and stressful. In a few days, when he's moved to his room, you can discuss this all you want, be my guest. But not now, alright?"

Soda and I simultaneously looked down and mumbled, "Yes, ma'am." I knew my face was turning red. Well, golly, I couldn't help it, this lady made me feel like I was 5 years old again. Probably bacause she reminded me so much of Mom.

She cracked a smile. "No need to be ashamed. I know this whole thing is stressful on you. You should get some rest."

Soda grinned back. "That's alright, I'm not tired." He yawned. I rolled my eyes.

"Sure." said Maggie. "Tell you what. You boys go home and get some rest. I'll stay here and watch him."

We both shook our heads firmly. "No, we're staying." I said. "I don't want him waking up and thinking we left him."

"I think he's out for the night, he won't wake up." Maggie pressed, but I shook my head.

"No, I'm staying. Sodapop, I want you to go home and get some rest. You'll need it."

"No way."

"Soda, don't be difficult. I know how you get when you're tired. You won't be helping Pony a bit if you're grumpy."

"What if he has a nightmare?"

I considered this. "He won't."

"How do you know?"

"I know. Do you want me to drop you off at home, or do you want to call one of the guys and have them pick you up?"

"I'll call Steve," he said, sounding grumpy. "If you leave too, he'll be alone, and I don't want him to be completely alone."

I nodded. "I'm sorry, Soda, but he'll be okay. Hey, also about the whole ring thing..."

Soda cut me off. "Forget about it, Darry. Well talk about it later. With Ponyboy. He should have a say in this, too."

I didn't really agree with him, but I didn't want to start up another argument, so I reluctantly agreed. "Call our house first, I told the gang they could crash there tonight. Just get something to eat, shower, sleep, and you can come here in the morning. Bring the gang, too, they said they wanted to come."

"Alright."

He quietly made his way over to Pony's bed, kissed his forehead, whispered "Love ya, Pone," and came back over. "Night Dar, see ya tomorrow. Call me if there's any problems. Promise?"

"Promise. Thanks for helping out, little buddy. Sleep well." He grinned and slipped out into the hallway.

I sighed, sitting in that plastic chair, and staring at my skinny little brother, hooked up to machines and lying still and pale on the bed. I took his hand in mine, trying to warm it. It was cold.

I sat there for about a half hour, until Maggie came in with a cot for me to sleep on. I stretched out, and fell asleep beside my brother.

**SODA'S POV**

I walked down the white hallways. White walls, white floors, white doors, white uniforms. You'd think that they'd add a bit of color to cheer it up a bit, after all it is a hospital, but I didn't design this place, so no use worrying over it. I found a pay phone in the waiting room, punched I our phone number, and waited. It answered on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Soda?"

"Steve?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I have a favor to ask. Can you come pick me up? I'm at the hospital."

"Yeah, I figured that much out for myself. Everyone ok?"

"Yeah, Darry's just making me come home to get some rest. That okay?"

"Sure, be there in 10. "

"Thanks, buddy."

"No problem. See ya."

"See ya."

I leaned back against the wall, knees still trembling. Pony had scared me something awful, his machine going all crazy like that. I was still kinda angry with Darry for fighting with him. I mean, it's bad enough that they fight so much anyway, but the fact that Darry fought with him while he was lying sick in a hospital bed is just about killing me.

I think the problem with them is that they're too alike and too different. They're both smart, try too hard to please people, stubborn, and they overreact things too much. When they get into a fight, they're both too stubborn to be the first to end it. They both overreact things that the other one did. Pony always gets so angry when Darry contradicted him, claiming that he wasn't Dad. Darry overreacted when Pony did the smallest things. Like one time, Pony walked home without a jacket, and Darry flipped, ranting about how he never uses his head, and how he's so absent-minded. Pony was sick the next day, and you should have heard Darry go on about how "If he had just worn a jacket.." but obviously, he wasn't sick from that reason. And they were both too proud to see their own faults.

They're different in just as many ways. Pony's always daydreaming, thinking about what could happen, what could've happened. He's always lost in thought. Darry has no patience for that, he always hates when people "Dwell and the past and future more than the present." They just don't see things the same way, don't think alike. That's their problem.

I had been thinking for so long that I didn't realize that the elevator had opened and Steve was walking out of it. I stood up.

"Hey Steve."

"Hey Soda."

We walked in silence to the elevator and got in. Steve hit the lobby button, and we rode in silence for a couple of minutes. I think he knew I wasn't feeling very social right now. Finally, he spoke up.

"Well, how is he? How's the kid?"

"_Ponyboy _is doing as good as you can expect him to be, I guess. Except for his heart moniter went all crazy earlier when he and Darry got in a fight. I think that's why Dar made me leave. He feels guilty."

"They got in a fight? Well, no new news there."

"Shut up, Steve. Darry wants to sell Mom's wedding ring."

He stopped laughing, his expression darkening. "Sell it? You can't sell it! Why the h*** would you?"

"For money, I guess."

The elevator stopped and we walked into the lobby, still talking.

"That's ridiculous! You can't sell it. Just cause the kids sick.."

"Ponyboy, Steve, not "the kid." And don't make it sound like it's his fault, cause its not and you know it."

Steve held up his hands. "I ain't! Chill, Soda."

"Hey, I'm sorry man. I'm just stressed."

"It's alright buddy. C'mon, let's go."

I hadn't realized that we had reached Steve's beat-up truck. He slid into the drivers seat, I got into the passengers, and we rode home in silence.

**STEVE'S POV**

We were sitting around the Curtis's living room, when the phone rang. We looked at each other.

"It's probably them." said Dally. No one else moved, so I got up to answer it.

Hello?"

"Hey."

"Soda?"

"Steve?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I have a favor to ask. Can you come pick me up? I'm at the hospital."

"Yeah, I figured that much out for myself. Everyone ok?"

"Yeah, Darry's just making me come home to get some rest. That okay?"

"Sure, be there in 10. "

"Thanks, buddy."

"No problem. See ya."

"See ya."

I hung up, grabbed my keys, and headed out to the living room.

"What's up?" Two-Bit asked.

"I'm gonna go pick up Soda at the hospital."

"Why?" Dally.

"I think Darry wanted him to get some rest. I'll be back in twenty minutes. No one steal my money, I'll know." I said, gesturing to our poker game. I headed towards the door, till Johnny spoke up.

"Is Pony alright?"

I turned around. I didn't really know. How great could a kid with cancer be doing?

"I don't know, Johnnycakes, I think Soda said he was," I added in, so he wouldn't worry. "Soda'll tell us when he gets back."

I headed out and drove to the hospital. As I drove, I argued with myself. I didn't hate Ponyboy, I never had. At least, I don't think I did. We sure didn't like each other, but h***, I don't want the kid to die, either. The problem is that he's always tagging around after Soda and I. Well, not so much anymore, he did a lot when he's younger, but now, he rarely tags along. But it's too late, the damage is done, and the grudge continues. Truth is, he bothers mebacause he has, or had, what I want: A loving family, A mom who cares, a dad who doesn't beat on him, and two brothers who don't ditch him somewhere. He doesn't have parents anymore, but he's got Darry and Soda, and he's got so much d*** potential. Academics, track, everything. So that's the truth. I _dislike__, _not hate, Ponyboy Curtis cause he hogs Soda and the girls, and I'm jealous of him. And that's all there is to it.

I arrived at the hospital, picked up Soda, and drove him home. We talked a bit, but not much, and I didn't push him. I could tell he was exhausted. When we got back, Johnnycakes was half-asleep in the armchair, Two-Bit was dozing in front of the T.V., which was running quietly, and Dally was cleaning up the poker game. He usually took responsibility as the "man of the house" when Darry wasn't here, because he was the second-oldest, and Two-Bit was too lazy to do it.

I "accidentally" slammed the screen door loudly behind me, causing Johnny and Two-Bit to jerk awake. The three of them immediately started to bombard Soda with questions.

"Hey Soda!" "How's Pony?" "How long will he have to stay in the hospital?" "Where's Darry?" "Can we visit tommorrow?" "Does he have a roommate?" "Greaser or Soc?" "When can he come home?" "Do y'all have any chocolate cake in the icebox? We checked but couldn't find any."

Poor Soda couldn't get a word in edgewise, but eventually their questions slowed down. Soda sat down at the couch.

"Golly, a guy can't get a word in edgewise." he joked. "Alright. It went okay, I guess. Pony's pretty sick, he'll be okay in a couple of days. Darry's staying with him. He's got a roommate, but I can't tell what he's like yet, guess we'll find out later. Yeah, y'all can visit tomorrow, and God, Two-Bit, lay of the choclate cake, would ya?"

We went to bed after that. Soda in him and Pony's room, me on the couch, Johnny on the armchair, and Dallas on the floor, which he preferred. Soda had offered his parent's, now Darry's room, to us, but we refused, it was too painful.

I stretched out on the couch and fell asleep.

**Author's Note: This chapter was completley off track from what I planned. I was planning on having Ponyboy meet and talk to Nathan a lot, Ponyboy and Johnny talking, and Darry and Soda having to go to a support group. Oh, and also the cause of Pony's headaches. But this happened instead, the idea just came to me. Well, I guess that's your sneak-peak for next chapter ;) I know I said the story will focus more on friendship and stuff, and it will in the next chapter. Hope you liked it! Read & Review, guys, Read & Review. Thanks so much! Stay Gold!-****Emily ;)**


	7. Chapter 7: Support and Sunrise

**SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S.E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Happy Sunday! Hope everyones having a good weekend. Still busy with dance camp, but it's really fun! I appriciate you guys and your reviews sooo much, thank you all! There are at least 30 people, though, who have this on their story alert list or favorites, and have never reviewed! Please, please review, it helps me do better :)**

**I'm glad everyone liked Steve's POV so much, I'll probably have it again next chapter. I'm going to do everyone's POV eventually, and not just the gangs, I'll have Nathan's sometimes, too. This chapter has Johnny's ;)**

**Betty Lou (aka Julianne): Yes, I thought I'd throw in a little Steve to satisfy you. *Gushes* *sarcastic ornix* (don't ask)**

**Johnnylover22: Aww, thanks, Jazmine! I'm very, very honored that you would start your own account cause of me! I will keep writing :) It will be a tear jerker, but towards the middle/end. I appriciate the review!**

**MetroHarbor: Thanks! and yayy, you're reading my story, you're my favorite author!**

**On with the story! Hope you like it!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 7: Support and Sunrise

**DARRY'S POV**

I sat up, stiff and sore, on the small cot in Pony's room. I stretched and yawned, noticing Pony was still asleep.

"Morning, Pony," I whispered, gently touching his hand. He looked better than he did yesterday. Sick, but better. I stood up and looked at my watch. 8:00! How'd sleep so late? I usually woke up around 5 to get to work, not even using an alarm. Ughh. I hated sleeping late, it made me even tireder. I felt guilty about leaving Pony alone while going to call Soda and get breakfast, until I noticed Maggie asleep in a chair. I shook my head. That women deserves a medal or something.

I stumbled out of the cubicle and into the bright hallway. The white light nearly blinded me. I went into the bathroom to wash up, making a mental note to myself to call Soda, and ask him to bring me a change of clothes. I had been wearing the same jeans and T-shirt since yesterday.

I went to the cafeteria, ordered a cup of black coffee and a doughnut, and collapsed into a chair to eat it. The coffee was terrible, but it woke me up, at least. I started thinking more clearly. Alright. Soda and the gang would probably come around in a half-hour or so. Soda would try to convince me to go home and rest, as I had done to him the night before, but I wasn't leaving. Even though Ponyboy's chemo had gone reasonably well, except the headaches, I still had a terrible fear that something would gone wrong, I wouldn't be here, and he would die without the chance to say a goodbye. I just couldn't let that happen.

That was my fear. Losing what little foundation our family had left. A terrible sadness welled up inside of me. We had lost our parents and we barely got through that. My relationship with my brothers had deteriorated since then. I could only imagine what it would be like if we lost Pony. The house would be quiet. No books strewn about the living room, no shoes lying all over the kitchen floor. No Ponyboy to drive to school, to the library. No Ponyboy to pick up from track. No Ponyboy to be proud of. To yell at, to fight with, to be my brother.

God, what is wrong with me? I can't let my guard down, be seen as weak. I'm Darry Curtis, a responsible adult who needs to go pay bills and work and take care of his brothers, not sit here going soft about his kid brother, who will be fine. I'm tough and not worried and... just as lost as the rest of us.

I want my parents. I want an adult. I want somebody who will take responsibility for this mess so I can go be a kid. Go to college and play football and have a girlfriend and get drunk. But that's somebody else's life, not mine, and I have to take full responsibility for my own.

I threw out my trash, slid a couple of quarters into the pay phone in the hallway, and dialed. Moments later, a sleepy voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Two-Bit? God, _please _don't tell me you just woke up."

"Ummm, no."

"Sure. You guys gonna come down here?"

"Course, Darry. We'll leave in like, 10 minutes. Some of us just need to wake up a little..." He yawned. I rolled my eyes.

"Kay. Can I talk to Soda?"

"Sure, hang on." I heard him bellow in the background, " SODAPOP! PHONE!" I heard shuffling and muttering then Soda answered.

"Darry?" It didn't sound like my happy, bouncy, easygoing brother at all. His voice was throaty and scratchy and... _sad. _He had probably cried himself to sleep last night. He did after Pony fell asleep the night before he started chemo. It broke my heart. If we lose Pony, we lose Soda. I didn't want him to turn into one of the pale, depressed people, merely a shadow of a human being. I was going to end this now.

"Soda," I said, trying to make my tone as gentle as possible, instead of annoyed. "You sound horrible. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"I tried, Darry, I really did. But I couldn't sle-"

"No, you didn't _want _to sleep. You were afraid to sleep because of Pony. Pony's fine. You can't stop living, you gotta focus on yourself, too. Ponyboy will flip when he sees you looking like you've been run over by a truck. Just loosen up some."

"You're one to talk. You need to come him and shower and eat some real food."

"You're not in charge here. Go get ready. And bring me a change of clothes, would ya?"

"Darry-"

"The phone's running out of time. See you later."

I hung up and went back to Pony's room, shaking my head. Dr. Mitchell was talking to a groggy, half-awake Ponyboy when I entered.

"Hey kiddo, how you feeling?"

"I'm okay."

There was a strained silence. I think we were both remembering the last conversation we'd had. Dr. Mitchell cleared his throat.

"Morning, Darrel. How you doing?"

"Fine, thanks. You?"

"Fine, fine..." He rubbed his hands together. "I'm here to discuss the results of Ponyboy's blood tests."

My stomach tightened. "You mean the cause of his headaches?"

"Yes."

"Is it bad?"

He looked thoughtful. "Well, I wouldn't call it good, but it's not the worse thing that could happen, either. Ponyboy has anemia. It's slightly more severe then were used to seeing, but not horrible. He's getting headaches because anemia is when someone has a lack of blood in their body. Since there is a lack of blood, it can't spread to the whole body, including not as much blood can get to his head. Not enough blood in the head can cause dizziness and headaches. We're going to give him a couple of blood transfusions. Do you or Sodapop or one of your friends have type A+ blood?

"I don't know, sir. You can check us when they come in a few minutes."

20 minutes later, everyone was getting tested. 20 minutes after that, we had the results. I was type A-, Soda was O+, Two-Bit was B+, Johnny was O+, and Dally was AB+. That left Steve. Coincidently, guess who was type A+?

Steve.

**JOHNNY'S POV**

I woke up in the armchair. Through the window, I saw that the sun was starting to rise. I was the only one awake, so I quietly slipped out of the house and sat on the porch to watch.

It was beautiful. The sky was a pearly pink, and the sun was a flaming orange. The clouds were rimed with gold. The world was peaceful and quiet. I liked sunrises because Mrs. Curtis used to say "The sunrise means a whole new day, with new opportunities. You never know what to expect."

I liked that quote, it made me think that anything could happen. My parents would suddenly care about me, I would move to the country, I would get good at school, anything. Not that any of that would happen, but it was nice to think about.

Pony liked sunrises, too. After Mrs. Curtis died, I wanted to stop watching sunsets. Her quote kept mocking me: "You never know what to expect." We didn't expect them to die, that's for sure. Ponyboy said his Mom would want us to keep watching them. The gang thought we were crazy, but we still watched them every morning.

I'm afraid of losing Pony. I think I would lose myself if he died, because I really would be alone, have no one to talk to. I can't talk to the gang, or frankly, anyone, like I do to Ponyboy. He tells me everything, and I tell him everything. Everyone thinks I'm quiet, and I suppose it's true. I don't talk much to other people because I worry about saying something stupid, and I guess I'm shy, too. I can talk to Pony for hours, though because he thinks like me, so I don't have to worry about sounding stupid.

A icy voice broke into my thoughts, "Johnny? Johnnycakes, you out there?" Dally.

I scrambled inside. "I'm here, Dally."

"What were you doing out there, watching the sunset?" He smirked. I nodded.

"Kid, I swear, I will never get how you and Ponyboy watch those things. Ain't nothing interesting about them."

I didn't know how to answer to that, so I just headed into the kitchen to make some breakfast.

The house slowly came to life. Soda came in, looking horrible. He wasn't taking this real well. I hoped Darry straightened him out before he saw Ponyboy. He would be furious at him for not taking care of himself and for worrying too much about him. Steve woke up and attempted to make a chocolate cake. Let's just say that the Curtis's will probably need a new stove soon. Two-Bit slept until the phone woke him up, and he answered it.

It was Darry. He talked to Two-Bit and Soda for a little. It didn't go over well.

"Hello? Darry? No, you didn't let me explain... Hello? D*** it..." He hung up.

"What's up?"

He looked annoyed. "So, he keeps telling me that _I _need to stop worrying, when _he's _the one who hasn't left the hospital yet. I swear, we are going to get him out of there if its the last thing we do.

I agreed with Soda, I thought, as we drove to the hospital. Darry needed to get home and get some rest. He needed to get used to it, both him and Soda were starting work again on Monday.

When we got to the hospital, we were greeted in the lobby of the oncology ward by Darry, accompanied by a doctor.

"Hey guys, this is Dr. Mitchell, Pony's doctor. Listen, Ponyboy needs a couple of blood transfusions. Would you be willing to get your blood tested?"

I was, I didn't know about everyone else, but we couldn't exactly say no, could we? Dr. Mitchell drew our blood. I clutched the edges of the metal table as the needle slid into my muscle. Tough, right? I can handle a whipping from my old man and still stand the next day, and I shy away from a small sliver of metal. I clenched my teeth, though, and didn't say a word.

We got the results back 20 minutes later. Pony was A+. I was O+. Steve was the only one with A+. I had a bad feeling about that. Ponyboy and Steve had a kind of love/hate relationship. Actually, a little more on the hate side. Defiantly on the hate side. Oh, boy.

Steve was looking murderous. Soda sensed that and kicked us all out to talk to him. Darry led the way to Pony's room. He paused outside.

"We only got ten minutes to visit, so make it fast, alright? And don't get all freaked out, I know there are a ton of machines, but just ignore them, savvy?"

"No sweat, Darry." Two-Bit said, punching his shoulder. Darry opened the door and we went in. Ponyboy was lying in a large white hospital bed, hooked up to I.V.s and a heart moniter. My mouth was dry. He looked bad off. He was leaning back on his pillows, but grinned when he saw us.

"Hey!"

"Hey kid!" Two-Bit bounded over. "How's the hospital treating you? Met any girls yet?"

"Two-Bit!" Ponyboy complained indignantly.

"Well, hey, you never know, kid."

Dally came in. "Well, if it isn't Ponyboy Curtis." He lightly punched his shoulder. "Whatcha been up to, kid?"

"Lying around in bed. Being bored. I can't wait to just get out of this room."

He saw me standing in the doorway. "Hi Johnnycakes."

"Hey, Pony." I couldn't say anything else with the gang in there, and I didn't have the nerve to ask them to leave. We only had 10 minutes, and I wasn't about to take away visiting time from them.

Darry sat down by Ponyboy's bed. "So, listen kiddo, ya know how you need blood transfusions?" Pony nodded, coughing weakly. Darry looked uncomfortable. "Well, we got tested. One of us is a match. It's, um, Steve."

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"He probably doesn't want to do it, does he?"

Darry tried to look reassuring. "No, no, he's fine with it, Pone." He said, unconvincingly. "He's glad about it."

"Then why isn't he here?"

Even Darry couldn't think of an answer to that one. Two-Bit broke in. "He just doesn't know what to think of it, Pony. I mean, it's no secret that you two ain't exactly tight... don't worry about it, ya dig?"

He nodded, coughing again. He looked pale and sweaty, I could tell we were already wearing him out. As if on schedule, some nurse- I think her name was Maggie or something- came in and told us visiting time was up. Ponyboy was already dozing off, anyway, so we said goodbye and left.

Once we were in the hallway, we convinced Darry to come home with us. He didn't look happy about it, but he agreed. To be honest, I think he was just too tired to argue. We found Soda and Steve in the hallway. Apperantly, Steve had been talked into donating a pint of blood. He didn't look as if he regretted it, he just looked...awkward about it. We didn't talk to him about it, it would probably irritate him. Soda decided to stay with Pony for awhile.

Darry was practically falling asleep standing up. Two-Bit talked him into letting him drive (Lord, help us,) and we were home in about 5 minutes. Thanks to Two-Bit for running at least 3 red lights.

We all went our seperate ways once we got back to the neighborhood. Dally headed down to Buck's, muttering something about "business." I could only guess what that meant, but I could sure hope it didn't mean jail time for him again. Steve went to the DX for his afternoon shift. Two-Bit had to go home to baby-sit his kid sister, Nancy, and Darry had a meeting with Ponyboy's principal.

I sure wasn't about to head home, so I went down to the vaccant lot. I leaned against a tree in the corner, pulled out a packet of Kools, and tried to make sense of all this.

**SODA'S POV**

"A support group? A f****ing _support group?"_

It was Sunday night, 6 pm. The day had a tiring, end-of -the-day feel to it. Ya know, the feeling of going to bed on a Sunday night, and having school the next day. It was dusk out the window, and everything was dark blue and hazy in the sky.

It had been a weird couple of days, I think this whole routine is gonna take a little while to get used to. We had to get our blood tested for Pony's transfusions yesterday, and Steve was the only match. He was really weird about it, all shifty and akward-like, and he wouldn't tell me why. Once Dr. Mitchell left to get all the equipment, I asked him what was wrong, and he just shook his head. When Steve is upset about something, he shuts everyone out and won't let anybody in, not even me. Go figure. Everyone went home after that, except I stayed with Pony. We talked and laughed and told stories- for like 10 minutes. He crashed after that. I stayed with him last night, too, and made Darry go home. It was a rough night; they attempted to give him something to eat for dinner, and he was up half the night throwing up. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep, which is why I was in such a bad mood right now.

Also, we were starting our "normal" schedule tomorrow. Neither of us were sleeping here tonight (Pony insisted) and we were going to work tomorrow. Darry was as uptight as ever, insisting that the hospital call every couple of hours with an update, and to call immediately if anything went wrong. I was worried too, but Pony insisted that he would be fine. He was moving into his new room tomorrow.

Today went pretty good, the gang dropped in few a while and we played a couple rounds of poker. Darry and I just hung out here for the rest of the afternoon, until Darry informed me of the news: We were now expected to join a support group. A _support group. _Now, it may be just me, but when I hear the words "support group," I picture a bunch of people sobbing into tissues, bawling about how bitterly unfair their lives are and how it's a struggle to get up each morning. I defiantly don't want to be a part of that, and that's just what I told Darry.

"C'mon, Soda, don't exaggerate. It's not that bad. It's organized by a few doctors and nurses, and it's just some of the families of the patients getting together, discussing the basics, that sort of stuff. I ain't too excited about it, but I can't change that, so I'm just going to go and not complain. Now, are you going to be mature about it and deal with it, or will I be forced to make you behave, like a two-year old?"

"I'll stick with the complaining."

"Fine, be that way. But I'm just saying, I think this would be good for you."

I laughed. "Good for me? I'm fine, there ain't anything wrong with me."

"Whatever you say. We're still going."

Half an hour later, we were sitting in Room 401 of the oncology ward. The meeting room. There were various mismatched plastic chairs arranged in a crooked circle. Darry and I sat down awkwardly, we were the youngst people there.

A short nurse with short blonde hair started. "Hi! I'm Nurse Jones, I'm glad you could all come tonight. I recognize most of you, but if you're new, can you please stand up and introduce yourselves?"

I was hoping she wouldn't say that. Darry and I stood up.

"Uh, hi, I'm Darry Curtis, and this is my brother, Soda."

That Jones lady beamed even wider. "Wonderful! Now, who are you here for?"

I spoke up, "My younger brother, Ponyboy. He has AML."

"Wonderful!" she said again, still smiling. I didn't think it was wonderful at all. I thought this lady was insane and if she said "wonderful" one more time, I was going to seriously injure her. I kicked Darry. He kicked me back.

A couple more people introduced themselves. "David and Sydney McHerfon. Our nephew, James. ALL."

"Katie and Mason Snow. Our brother and brother-in-law, Corey. Brain cancer."

"Miriam and Robert Aljant. Our daughter, Casey. APL."

Smith would beam and say "wonderful" after everyone introduced themselves. I just wanted to get out of here. I was about to make a run for it when she said "Now let's turn it over to our leader, Nurse Roggins."

Everyone clapped. Nurse Roggins looked young, in her early 20s. Hmm. Around Darry's age. I was envisioning them dating, already, but I knew Darry would never go for it.

She talked for most of the class, and we listened. She was actually pretty good. She talked about restoring our faith in God, and moving on with our own lives, too. She called the last five minute for a prayer session, and told us to pray silently.

I didn't really know what to say. I hadn't been to church in a long time. A long, long time. But I gave it a shot, anyway.

_Dear God, please help us get through this. Help us be strong and Pony be strong. Give him courage. Please help us keep everything together and not fall apart. Keep us and the gang safe. Thanks for them. Oh, and watch over Mom and Dad. Please. Amen._

**PONY'S POV**

I was so ready to get out of that room. There was absolutely nothing interesting in it. White bed, white walls, white floors, white bedside cabinet. And a couple of chairs. That was it. I would have read, but I was just too tired. So, basically all I did was sleep.

It was Monday morning, around 8:00. I was finally, finally moving to my new room. Darry and Soda were at work. They had been nervous wrecks last night, especially Darry. It was almost painful to watch, he gave his work and hours and number to every nurse and doctor at least 50 times. I didn't give him a hard time about it, though, I knew he was just worried.

I just wished they would relax some, h***, they're more worried then I am. I mean, I'm scared too, and confused, and all that stuff, but I see no need to waste time sitting around complaining and worrying.

I was nervous about having a roommate. I remember that he looked kind of intimidating. I hoped he wasn't a Soc, I couldn't really tell without the hair and clothes. As long as he wasn't a Soc, though, I think it'll turn out okay. The worse that could happen I'd that he'll ignore me and I was just fine with that.

Dr. Mitchell finally came with the wheelchair. I didn't like it, but it was worth it to get out of that room. I sighed in relief as I rolled out, but that quickly evaporated. We were passing the lobby, and I saw a little girl, around 9 or 10 years old, waiting with her head against her mother's lap. She looked sick, and I knew that to her I just looked like another kid with cancer. I started feeling worthless. People would look at me now and just see me as some poor, pathetic, weak kid. They wouldn't find anything else important. They'll shower me with sympathy. And I _hate _sympathy.

We arrived outside Room 476. Dr. Mitchell opened the door and pushed me inside. There were no nurses inside, just Nathan.

"Hello, Nathan! How you doing?" Dr. Mitchell said.

"Alright, I guess," said Nathan. He had a tough, bored drawl to his voice, the kind that the gang and I reserved for cops and reporters.

"Good. This here is your roommate, Ponyboy Curtis. Ponyboy, this is Nathan. Nathan Hureed."

Again, he just nodded at me. I nodded back. I got situated, Dr. Mitchell inserted a couple of I.V.s and left. It was just Nathan and I. It was silent. Not an akward silence, just a silence where no one really had anything to say.

"You're names really Ponyboy?" Nathan broke the silence, fiddling with the tape holding down his I.V.

"Yeah."

"Where the h*** did us get a name like that?"

"My Dad. He was pretty original."

"Was?"

"My parents are dead."

He nodded slowly, just nodded. No apology. For some strange reason, I liked that. Ever since they died, people have been saying "God, that's terrible. I'm sorry." I'm sure they were sorry, but I didn't like their sympathy. Nathan didn't show sympathy, but he didn't show pleasure either.

"You're a greaser." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Yeah, I'm a greaser. And you?"

"Same."

"What gang do you belong to?"

"I never belonged to one. They took me to foster care only about a week after I moved here. I think I would have been part of The River Kings, thought, cause of where I lived."

"If you don't mind me asking, why were you in foster care?"

"No, I don't mind you asking." He was silent for a minute. "My old man's a drunk. A f***in alcoholic. He beat my old lady. Me too, just not as often. She packed up and left one day. Haven't heard from her since."

I nodded. I didn't apologize. He reminded me of Dally. I remember when I was seven, a ten-year-old Dallas Winston, fresh out of jail, moved to the neighborhood. I remember asking where his parents were. He told me. I said I was sorry. He looked really angry, said "No, kid, I'm the one who's f***ing sorry," and left. I had the feeling that Nathan would have the same reaction.

I was getting tired. I settled back down against my pillows to sleep. I remember just before drifting off, I heard Nathan suddenly say, "Hey, you dig alright."

I grinned. "You, too."

**Author's Note: So, do you guys like Nathan? I do! Let me know what you like/dislike about him in a review! Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PONYBOY! It's the 22nd! Watch a sunset tonight in his honor! Haha. I'll probably update next weekend, it's hard to update cause of camp. Also, I'm going to Tenessee in August! Can't wait! **

**Don't forget to review, please! It doesn't have to be long, I mean, sure I love those long, meaningful reviews, but it doesn't have to be long at all. Again, there are tons of people who follow this story and don't review. You know who you are! Lol. Thanks again, Stay Gold! -Emily**

**_I got info from these websites:_  
**

**Can Anemia Cause Headaches?**

**Red Cross: Blood Types**

**Do siblings Always Have The Same Blood Types? **


	8. Chapter 8: No Nicotine

**SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Hey! Hope everyone's having a good summer. I'm done with dance camp, our performance went really well! I'm gonna miss it, can't wait to start classes again in the fall. Thank you guys sooo much for the reviews, a ton more people reviewed, and I was very impressed. Keep it up. I also managed to PM everyone who reviewed except guests and Pixie Silver, cause you disabled your email account, so thanks for reviewing! Hope you like it!**

Chapter 8: No Nicotine

**DARRY'S POV**

The negative red numbers seemed to scream at me from the bottom of my credit card balence. -$14,269.75! I was mortified and absolutely horrified. Mortified because the lady behind the counter at the bank was looking at me like I was mentally challenged as I stared, red-faced and stammering, as I tried to speak but my voice failed me. I was in complete shock. I had no idea we were this far in debt. And I had till March 12th to pay my balence. It was March 4th. Oh, God.

"Excuse me," said a sharp voice. The lady behind the counter was tapping her foot, obviously annoyed. Her name tag read "Lindsey." Well, Lindsey was just going to have to wait. I was double and triple-checking every deposit and withdrawal. I had cashed in five paychecks, and Soda six, and we had a few more deposits here and there, but that was it. Everything else was another little payment: food, clothes, new roofing supplies, track shoes, other things that seemed of no real importance. If it wern't for the last withdrawal, we would have been in good shape. But there it stood, in small black fine print; Tulsa General hospital, payment from Darrel Curtis jr. One appointment, 3 day stay private room, one chemotherapy session, 5 day stay in regular room. $12,783.75. I couldn't believe the cost of that one little treatment.

Lindsey cleared her throat. She was really starting to get on my nerves now, smacking loudly on her gum. "Sir, you need to hurry up. There are other customers waiting." Sure enough, there was a long line of impatient people behind me, glancing doewn the line to see what the holdup was.

I sighed and handed her back the papers. "Here you go." She glanced down at the paper and looked back up, a bored expression on her face.

"Do you wish to pay off your debt today, or will that have to wait?"

I clenched my teeth. "I'll pay another day."

"Your balance has to be paid off by the 12th, or you'll be in a whole load of trouble." She almost looked pleased at that last part.

"I'm aware of that. I have a meeting with our health insurence this afternoon."

"I sure hope so." She mumbled her breath, "You're sure gonna need it."

I mumbled a "thank you", resisting the urge to flip her off, and hurried out of the bank to the truck. I was on my lunch break, and had been planning on dropping by Tulsa General to check on Pony, but it was already 1:34. Lunch break ended at 1:45, there was no way I would be able to drive out to the hospital so quickly. It was starting to snow, too, which would surely delay the ride. I still felt guilty about leaving him there in that hospital all alone, but Ponyboy had insisted we go to work and _stay there. _I swear, he was getting stubborner then Soda.

The last few days had gone surprisingly well. Well, as good as they can go when in our situation. Dr. Mitchell's had confirmed that the chemo had shown improvment on Pony's count of immature blood cells. That was defiantly good news, if he kept it up, he would be able to go home on Friday. It was Monday, only four more days. However, my worries were far from over. After three days at home, he would be back for a second, more aggressive, chemo session. I couldnt stop thinking about it. Even I myself was worrying that I would give myself an ulcer. I had always been a worrier, imagining the worst possible, and some nights I would lay awake at night for hours, picturing grusume images in my mind. Heck, I was sad to say that I think even Pony was coping with this better then I was, even if I didn't show it. The kid was defiantly tougher than I'd given him credit for, he hadn't complained while during his hospital stay.

A sudden squeal of brakes brought me back to reality. I had accidentally run a red light, and the driver next to me didn't look to pleased about it. I waved a "sorry" to him. He flipped off his middle finger at me. I could see him cussing me out through window. Ugh. I had hit rush hour, and the snow was coming down harder.

I managed to make it to the work only 5 minutes late. Gerald, my boss, gave me a look but said nothing. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy, and though he knew the situation and sympathized with it, he still expected me to be at work and on time unless it was absolutely critical. I tried to follow that rule because believe me, we needed the money. I grabbed my tools and headed up the ladder to my section of the roof, near the chimmney. It was still snowing, but not enough to be dangerous. Plus, I knew Gerald wouldn't call us if the roof unless we were in the middle of the worst blizzard of the century. And I highly doubted that would happen.

I was pretty distracted for the rest of the day, it's a miracle I didn't fall off the roof. I did hammer my thumb, though, and it hurt like h***. Lately, I had been thinking about my parents, what they would have done, what I would be doing if they were here, what I had been doing wrong. I knew it was unhealthy to think like that, but hey, I couldn't help it.

Finally, it was 6:30 and we could leave. I hightailed it out of there and drive as quickly as I could to Reed & Scafer's Health Insurence center. I had a meeting with them about covering the cost. I would have just go along with the health care plan that Mom and Dad had, but President Lyndon Johnson had just signed the Medicare and Medicaid bill, and I was about to find out if it applied to our situation.

Reed and Scafer's was a small, brick building, and was probably as old as Tulsa itself. Reed and Scafer were the two guys who opened it, but they were long gone, so various employees took it over. I had been here a few times; when Soda tore his ligament (again) and when Pony had his tonsils out. Our insurence usually covered about half the cost. Hopefully, that would change.

10 minutes later, I was in a worn-out wooden chair behind Robert Lynoyd's desk. Papers and files and hospital bills were strewn across the surface. Robert was behind it rubbing his forehead as he looked at our bills.

"Well, Darrel, as you probably already know, in a whole lot of debt." I nodded. "We can stick to your old insurence plan, with this office, or we could apply you for President Johnson's new Medicare and Medicaid plan. Of course, with this office, we would cover about half the cost. However, the other plan would be very helpful. Medicare wouldn't be necessary because it extends hospital care and doctor coverage to people aged over 65 and over. Medicaid seems to fit your situation perfectly, though. It extends medical care mainly for the poor, and especially focuses on giving coverage to low-income children and their guardians. We could enroll you in the program, but it's very difficult to get in. It doesn't offer coverage to every poor person, there are just too many people who are hard up on money. Income is only one factor in deciding who's eligible. You have to meet the criteria for the whole plan. You can send in an application, but I'm warning you Darrel, it's a slim chance. Of course, if you aren't eligible, we'll offer you our plan as normal. You want to go for it?"

"Why not?"

He slid an application across the desk. Name, town, state, insurance, situation, monthly income, Parent, siblings, address, phone number, medical issue. I got a pen and filled it out, then handed it back to Robert.

"Here you go."

"Thanks. We'll send it in, should get the results back by the 8th."

"Thanks, sir."

"Don't mention it."

I left the office, and headed down to the DX to get Soda and head down to the hospital.

**PONY'S POV**

Dizziness overtook me the moment I woke up. The room spun around me, and I started shaking and sweating. I felt tired and my head hurt. My stomach felt nauseous, I grabbed the trash can and held it steady.

"Hey," the curtain was drawn back and Nathan was looking at me. "You all right?"

I barely managed to nod before I started dry heaving. Nathan waited for me to finish.

"Gosh, you okay? You wanted me to call Maggie?"

I shook my head. I knew what this was. "I'm not sick. Well, I mean I am, but I think this cause I have to stop smoking."

He stared for a minute, then burst into laughter. "Oh boy," he chocked out, "Get ready for one h*** of a ride."

"What do you mean?"

"Shoot, when I first started chemo, I was still smoking, but the second week I was in the hospital, Maggie found out. Confiscated all my 8 packs of Kools. God, by the second day, I nearly killed some old man in the lobby wrestling for his cigarettes. I lost, cause the nurses thought I was pysco and pulled me off him. Worst 3 weeks of my life, all I could think about were cigarettes."

"Well? Do you now?"

"Nah, it gets better. But I'm warnin ya, you better keep away from people with cigarettes, cause you'll be ready to murder for them.

"Real helpful, considering all my friends smoke."

"Yeah, we'll, you'll get used to it." He hard eyes glimmered for a minute, then he turned away to face the wall.

I lay back down, drumming my fingers impatiently against the mattress, my leg twitching. I was restless and bored and annoyed. I wasn't sure if this was cigarette withdrawal, or if I was just going stir crazy. Iglanced at the clock on the wall. 4:47. Johnny and Two-Bit said they would drop by after school, maybe Dally, too. They should be here any minute.

As if on cue, Two-Bit burst into the room, followed by Johnny, who entered more quietly, and finally a scowling Dallas slunk in.

"Hey, kid!" Two-Bit yelped, bounding over. "How ya doing?"

"Hey, Pony," Johnny said, tipping a stack of books next to my bed. I was supposed to be keeping up with schoolwork.

"You look like s***, kid." Dally commented.

"I think it's called lack of nicotine. I'm not allowed to smoke."

A slow grin spread across Two-Bit's face. "Shoot, never thought I'd see the day where Ponyboy Curtis had to stop smoking. You've gotta be the biggest weed-fiend in the neighborhood."

"I know it. God, I want a cigarette."

Two-Bit was grinning. "Ten bucks he'll break and make a desperate attempt to bust outta here and buy cigarettes before Friday." He turned to Dally.

"You're on."

"Hey," said Johnny, lowering his voice, "What's you're roommate like? He okay?"

Dally flipped his switchblade open. "He ain't a Soc, is he? Or do we need to get out our switchblades and talk some sense into him?"

"He's fine, Dal. He's a greaser."

He nodded but didn't put down his switchblade down. Nathan turned back around and opened his eyes.

"Uh, guys, this is Nathan." He nodded at Two-Bit and Johnny. They nodded back. Then he saw Dally and his eyes widened. He looked shocked.

"Winston?"

Dally looked hard at him. "D***. Hureed?" Nathan nodded.

Well, I didn't think anyone expected that. "You two know each other?"

Dally looked really shocked. "New York. Knife fight of '58. Shoot, kid, I thought they'd killed you for sure. Or you were in jail."

"Nah, they took me to the hospital after the fuzz took you away. Knife missed all the organs. That's when we packed up and headed down here to Tulsa. When did you move down here?"

"Glory, must've been what, six, seven years ago?"

"Well, wasn't expecting this."

"No kidding. Well, good to see you alive."

"Yeah, back at ya."

Two-Bit, Johnny, and I were all staring at them. I was dying to know what happened, but I didn't push it.

It was a pretty quiet visit after that. I was practically falling asleep, so I just leaned back, closed my eyes, and listened while they filled me in on what was going on at school and all that. They left a little while later, informing me that Darry and Soda would drop by later. I just nodded, feeling lousy. They left.

I pulled the covers up around my shoulders, shivering, ad fell asleep. My last thought was, "_D***, I need a cigarette."_

**SODA'S POV**

The powdery snow was falling quicker now. I shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around me as I worked on a beat up truck. I envied Steve, who was probably warm and comfortable inside as he read a car magazine. Our shift was ending in ten minutes, so no one was really stoping by.

I was beat. I had been working extra shifts all day to pay for the hospital bills, I knew our insurance wouldn't cover all of it. I missed Pony something awful around the house, quiet as he was, it seemed a lot quieter without him around. I was just thankful that the chemo was working so far.

A car pulled up in the parking lot, headlights cutting through the thickening snow. Our car. Darry stuck his head out the window. "Hey, Soda, hop in!"

I glanced at the clock. My shift had ended. "Hang on!" I yelled to Darry, hurrying inside.

"See ya, Steve!"

"See ya! Hey, I was thinking of having Evie over tonight. You want to cone along, bring Ssndy? It's snowing out, the ladies like it, it could get pretty cozy." he gave me a knowing look.

"Thanks, Steve, but I gotta go visit Pony. Some other time?"

He just rolled his eyes. I left, not wanting to get into it.

"Hey, little buddy. You have a good day?"

"Ehh, it was all right. It's freezing out!"

"Hey, you can't complain. The snow was practically burying us on the roof!"

I laughed. "I can't wait to see Pony."

"I know, it's been weird without him around."

"He can come home on Friday though, right?"

"If everything goes as planned. But remember, Soda, it won't just be back to normal when he comes home. It's only for a couple days. He's gonna be weak, you gotta take it easy with him."

"I know, I ain't stupid."

"Did I say you were?"

I ignored him. The rest of the ride to the hospital was quiet, we were both lost in our own thoughts. We finally got to the hospital and up to the seventh floor. We waved to Dr. Mitchell and Mrs. Dunthers in the hallway, but didn't stop to talk. We didn't have much time.

We got to Pony's room and went on in. He looked a little better, with only a couple of I. V.s in. Ihe was pale and sweaty, though. Something was off. I pushed that aside though.

"Hey, Pony!" I said, bending down to hug him.

"Soda!" he sounded half glad, half annoyed.

"What's got you all grumpy?" Darry joked, messing up his hair.

"Cigarettes! I can't smoke! I'm going crazy! I swear, if I can't have one soon, I'mhgpoing to go crazy. Literally."

Oh, boy. I knew giving up smoking was bad for anyone, but Pony was really hooked on it. This wasn't going to go over well.

"Giving up smoking is hard, Pone, but it really is for the best."

"It's not hard, Darry! It's impossible!" He moaned, rolling back on his pillows dramatically. "I just want one d*** cigarette. It's all I can think about."

"Ponyboy Curtis, watch your mouth."

"I'm sorry. Not smoking is just really making me grumpy."

"No kidding," I joked him. He glared at me. "Kidding. Oh, come on kid, lighten up!"

He gave me half-smile. "That's better. So what'd ya do today?" I sat down on one side of the bed, Darry on the other.

He leaned his head in my lap. I absent-mindly stroked his hair. "Not much. Slept. I got to know Nathan a little ( who I assumed was sleeping, cause the curtain between their beds was drawn), he's pretty tough, kind of like Dally. He actually knows Dally it was pretty bizarre, when he, Two-Bit, and Johnny stopped by he recognized him. From some big knife fight back in New York."

"That's crazy. Hey, Pony, did Johnny bring your schoolwork?"

I rolled my eyes. Darry needed to go easy on Pony about the schoolwork, he was in the hospital, for Christ's sake!

"Yeah, I'll start on it tomorrow." he said, yawning. "I tried to start it, but I couldn't concentrate. So how was work for you guys?"

We filled him in on our days, he was out 10 minutes later.

"Soda, we gotta leave."

"Darry! We just got here! 10 more minutes? Please?"

He sighed. "Fine. Im going to the bathroom, you'd better be ready when I get back."

I nodded. He left, and I stroked Pony's hair as he slept. I felt lucky.

**Author's Note: I was amazed that nobody used the Medicare and Medicaid plan in other cancer fics! I mean, they always have them struggling to pay the bills, and I was doing research and it was like "Whoa! That's perfect. " it really was, it fits their situation perfectly, I think, abd even came out in that year! Everything about it was true, by the way. Also, Nathan's 16. Don't know if I mentioned that.**

**Well, has everyone been watching the Olympics? I have ;) Good luck to all the countries. Omg did you guys see that swimming race last night? France beat us ( America) by like millimeter! That was incredible! Haha. Hope you guys liked the chapter, please let you know what you thought in a review! Thanks! Stay Gold! -Emily ;)**

**_I GOT ALL MY INFO FROM THESE WEBSITES:_**

Radical movements create context for 1960s health care reform

Medicaid Act, 1965

President Johnson

Effects of quitting smoking


	9. Chapter 9: I Should Have Stayed Home

**SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**PAuthor's Note: Sorry for the slightly long wait! I've been too bored to write, now that I'm done with camp, I have nothing to do until I go to Tennessee, everyone's on vacation or doing something! Just been hanging out and painting my room. Can't wait to get my schedule! I really don't know exactly where I'm going with this chapter, I have a TON of stuff planned for this story, but I can't make it start happening yet, so I'm trying to find a way to fill up some space until we get there. I'm basically just winging it this chapter. Please give me some advice on it, let me know what you think! And thanks sooo much for the wonderful reviews, I really appriciate them!**

**Also, thanks to A. E. Zurtia for being my 100th reviewer! I can't believe I broke 100! Thanks, guys ;) And thanks to Classy Muse for the great information about Medicaid!**

**Guest: Thanks for the review! Sorry, I'm always going to star out the cuss words. I just don't like cussing. I know, I'm a tough greaser (sarcasm;) Haha.**

**Chapter 9: I Should Have Stayed Home**

**DARRY'S POV**

"Please!"

"No."

"Darry, c'mon..."

I bit my lip, staring down my 13-year old brother. His arms were folded across his skinny chest, a stubborn expression on his face. He was unnaturally skinny and pale. Bruises decorated his skin. Was I actually about to give into him?

"Absolutely not. For God's sake Ponyboy, you just got home 10 minutes ago. Give it a rest."

"You're so unfair!"

"So sue me. Go get some rest."

Ponyboy stalked off to his room, slamming his door behind him. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair, and turned to Sodapop.

"Thanks for the help."

"Well, geez Darry, I couldn't take sides this time, you both had a point."

"Whatever. Just go talk to him, would you?"

Soda nodded and walked down the hall. I felt bad already for arguing with Pony, but I had just been running out of patience. It was Friday, we had just gotten home from the hospital, and Pony was already begging to go see a movie with Johnny later, when he got off from school. I had refused to let him, claiming that he needed to rest, but that wasn't really the real reason.

I was scared to let him go, filled with a desperate fear that he wouldn't come back. The same fear that I felt when we left the hospital for the night, afraid that he wouldn't be there in the morning or afternoon, when we dropped by to see him.

I knew that a lot of other people felt like this. Soda and I had anotherSuppoert group meeting, and we had talked about dealing with guilt and taking care of ourselves. Rveryone was saying that they were afraid to leave them, that when they talked it would be the last time. But all the other patients had parents who could spend the night and even the day at the hospital, instead of having to get up at the crack of dawn and work till night. And that wasn't really a comforting fact.

It had been a stressful past couple days. Ponyboy had refrained from complaining, but he had been close to cracking, and I honestly couldn't blame the kid. He had been stuck in a hospital bed for a week, not able to get out of it except to go to the bathroom and shower. He couldn't smoke, and couldn't do much except do schoolwork and talk. But he was too exhausted to do much, though he wouldn't admit it. I didn't blame him for wanting to get out a bit. But that didn't change the fact that he had cancer. _Cancer. _And oblivious as he was, I wasn't about to let him wander around aimlessly with Socs roaming the streets and all that. Also, Dr. Mitchell had pulled me aside when I was signing the release papers. He had strongly suggested that I keep Pony's amount of activity very lenient, due to the risk of infection. Infections were most common after the first chemo session, and they could be life-threatening, it would drop his white bloid cell count. I was supposed to take his temperature daily, and be on the lookout for any other signs of infection, and take him to the E. R. imediatly if he developed one. To prevent it, he wasn't supposed to be around anyone sick, be in contact with people, and avoid large crowds of people. I didn't know how to do that without keeping him in the house. So I was keeping him inside. Still, I felt weird, as if I was trying too hard to protect him.

Soda came into the living room and flopped on the couch. "He's resting now. Happy?"

"Soda," I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "It's for his own good. Remember what Dr. Mitchell said? He's most likely to develop an infection after his first treatment. I know I can't keep him trapped inside, but I can't just let him go out. It's too much of a risk."

Soda nodded thoughtfully, heading towards the kitchen to make himself a sandwhich. "I know, Dar. But h***, we can't keep him trapped inside this whole time. He hasn't been out of bed in a week, and he's not one to sit still. A couple of hours won't kill him."

I gave in. "You're right. I'm think gonna send either Dal or Two-Bit with him and Johnny, just to be safe. And I don't want him out for more than two hours."

Soda grinned. "I knew you'd crack, Dar. You're easy to convince."

He ducked my swing at him as I headed to Pony's room. I knocked.

"What?"

I came in. "Pony, I know you think I'm being unreasonable, but I just don't want you getting sicker. You dig?"

"Yeah, I dig, but it's still not fair. I'm bored to death. Please, Darry, plea-"

"Before you can beg any longer, I'll just tell you, you can go. But only for a couple hours."

He grinned. "Thanks, Darry!" He headed off towards the kitchen. I saw him slip Sodapop a dollar under the table.

"Told you he'd crack," Soda said, grinning cockily.

"Shut up."

I headed to my room and flopped down on my bed. I was completly sleep-deprived, between work, checking on Pony, taking care of Soda, trying to pay bills, trying to assess the money situation with the hospital if we were accepted into Medicaid, doing paperwork for Pony's school, setting up a system where he could get his work completed, and working out a schedule with work, I didn't have a ton of time for , I would be able to catch up on sleep this weekend-I wasn't working, and Pony didn't have his next chemo session until Sunday ( it was Monday, but we adjusted it with our bosses so that we could take today off, but go in on Monday.) And a ten minute nap couldn't hurt now. I shut my eyes and was instantly out.

I woke up to loud voices. I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes. Weak winter sunlight filtered through the window, glimmering and reflecting off the light dusting of snow on the ground. I pushed the blankets off me and stumbled to the living room. Pony was stretched out on the couch, and Soda was on the floor next to him. They were deeply involved in an enthuseastic (and very loud) game of poker.

"I raise it to two bucks," Soda said, carelessly tossing a couple of dollar bills into the pile. Pony gave his money a painful look before setting down his two dollars. The gang jokes him when we play poker, he almost always folds cause he can't bear to risk his money.

Soda laughed. "Ready to surrender, Pone?"

"No way. For once, I'm not gonna fold."

"Good luck with that."

"Hey, you're awake, Darry!"

"Yeah," I mumbled. I was still half-asleep. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

I nodded, and sat down in the armchair to watch the rest of the game.

"All right, let's see you're cards." Pony triumphantly revealed his cards. Two sixes, three tens. "Full house."

Soda slapped down his cards. "You're good, little bro. Just not good enough." He grinned wickedly. "A ten, jack, queen, king, and ace. A royal flush, straight in spades. Pay up."

"D*** it!" said Pony, pushing the pile of money towards Soda. "Go on. Gloat."

"Ponyboy, language."

"Sorry, Darry... Hey, how come you never slam Soda for language?"

"Can't be done," Soda answered, not looking up from counting his money. "I'm too old to change my terrible ways."

"Sure."

I just shook my head. "You guys want lunch?"

"Yeah." Soda said, jumping up, but Pony stayed put.

"Nah, I'm not hungry."

"You sure? You barely got any breakfast, either. You feel like you're gonna get sick?"

"Darry, it ain't a big deal. I'm just not hungry. Can I sleep now?"

"Yeah, sure. Just let me know when you're ready to eat."

He nodded and curled up, closing his eyes. I headed for the kitchen, feeling worried. He hadn't been eating much lately, and he was getting pretty skinny. Shouldn't he be hungry now?

Soda came in behind me and nudged me. "Hey, stop worrying. He's fine."

I sighed. "I know. That's what scares me."

"It scares you that he's fine?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he'll seem fine one minute, but it's just the medicine tricking us and he'll be really sick the next minute. It can happen so fast, ya know?"

Soda looked confused. "I guess."

He didn't really know, I could tell. I had the feeling thatother people wouldn't, either. It was just that he would be okay one minute, and I would stop worrying, thinking that he's getting better. But he wasn't getting better, and his condition would change so fast that it scares me. I didn't have control over the situation, and that scared me, too. I was always been in control, when Mom and Dad died I pretty much became the unofficial leader of the house. I had the power of who stayed at our house, who didn't, when my brothers went out, when they came home, who they hung out with. I could keep them safe, for the most part. But I'm not keeping them safe, this is beyond my control. And I don't like being powerless.

**TWO-BIT'S POV**

I tipped my chair back on two legs and put my feet up on the empty desk in front of me. Who needs math? I was bored to death. Time for some action. I started flirting with some blonde chick in front of me, and it seemed to be working. sure, I had been going steady with Kathy for two months now, but that didn't mean that I couldn't have a little fun anyway.

"Mr. Matthew's! Can you tell me the answer to this problem?" Mr. Groyer gestured to the board. I had no idea what he was talking about.

"No. Can you tell me?"

The class started laughing. An old, wrinkled vein started pulsing in Me. Groyer's neck, a sure sign that he was angry.

"Watch yourself, Mr. Matthew's, or you'll earn yourself a detention."

He turned back to the board and started lecturing again. I just grinned. Mr. Groyer had been teaching at Will Rogers nearly 50 years, and had always threatened to give kids detentions, but he never did. Which is why you could get away with almost anything in his class. And believe me, that came in handy.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I grabbed my books and waited for Johnny by the door. Even though I'm two years older then him, we're both in the lower-level math class. He came out last, walking slowly, painfully. His old man got pretty stoned a couple nights ago. Took it out on Johnny. Poor kid got away with a couple bruised ribs. Ah well, I say no need to worry about it now. You can't change the past.

"Hey, Johnnycake." I said as we walked down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much," he said quietly. Johnny was always quiet. "Saw you giving Amanda the eye. I thought you were goin steady with Kathy?"

I grinned. "Shoot Johnny, just cause I'm going with her doesn't mean I can't enlighten others lives."

"That's cheating, man!"

"That ain't cheating. That's life."

I got to my locker and dumped all my books in it. I wasn't really planning on doing homework this weekend. Johnny slung his backpack over his shoulder, and we walked over to Steve's locker.

"Hey, man."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Nothing much. You guys need a lift?"

"Don't you have to pick up Casey* from school?" Johnny asked me.

"Yeah, but I can pick her up,drop her off at her friends house, and head on down to the Curtis's."

"It's cool, I have the day off work, me and Johnnycake can head on down there. We'll see you later?"

Yeah, later."

I grabbed my keys and headed out to the parking lot where my rusty Ford was parked. I jammed my foot on the accelerator, it sputtered but didn't start. "D*** it," I muttered, taking the keys out of the ignition and kneeling down. 10 minutes later, it was running, but that also meant that I was 10 minutes late picking up Casey. Simple solution: speed.

I managed to get down to the worn down, red brick building in 5 minutes: Carver Middle School. It was empty and silent except for Casey sitting on the steps. I honked the horn at her. "Hop in!"

She flung herself down in the passengers seat, sulking. "What took you so long? I'm late for the sleepover."

"Sorry Case. You know, I had stuff to do."

She still looked mad, but kept her mouth shut. She knew the score. Although she doesn't know it, my little sister is the mirror image of my father; Straight dark blonde hair with natural brown highlights, tall for her age, stormy grey eyes. I prefer for her to keep it that way, not knowing about Dad I mean. He left when she was three. We never talk about him, but at almost 13, she's naturally curious about him. I give her the basic facts, but don't go into detail.

"Two-Bit! You were supposed to take a left!"

I jerk the wheel. "Where exactly am I going again?"

She sighs dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I knew she was half-kidding. "I'm sleeping over at Anna's house. Her adress is 304 Montosa Drive." I manage to get into the right neighboorhoids. The houses are cleaner, bigger, the grass is greener.

"Middle class?"

"Course. I'm not about to spend the night at some Socs house."

I grin at her and pull into the driveway. "Good. Alright kid, you know you can call if you need anything, try calling the Curtis's, I'll probably be over there. You know their number?"

"667-5309"

"Good. Try not to call home unless you really need something, Mom's working a late shift tonight. If no one answers on either, try the hospital, if worse comes to worse well be there, you know, with Pony and all..."

My sister's cheeks flushed slightly; Ponyboy wasn't even two years older then her, and she had always had a thing for him. She would never admit to it, though.

"Okay. Bye, Two-Bit!" She grabbed the bag she had packed this morning and ducked out the door.

"Have fun!" I tried to mess up her hair but she shrieked and ran away. I drove away laughing and headed over to the Curtis's.

I made my way up the steps, and banged through the screen door. "I'M HOME!"

"Thanks for letting us know, Two-Bit," Soda said, from his spot on the floor. Johnny was playing poker with Steve and Soda. Dallas and Darry wern't there. Pony was sacked out on the couch.

"Hey! I didn't know the kid was coming home, you should have told me!" I said. Glory, it was good to have him back, eBen if it only was for a couple of days.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Darry told you twice this morning."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Did he? Must've slipped my mind, I'm awfully busy."

Soda snorted. "It's a wonder how you manage your schedule. Between Mickey Mouse, eating our chocolate cake, flirting, and disrupting class, you don't have much time to spare."

I faked offense. "I'm offended you think so little of my schedule. I lead a very productive life."

Darry came down the hallway. "You call that a productive life? Then God help us, Two-Bit, cause I'm scared to see your future."

I grinned. "Soeaking of productive, I thought you had work, Darry."

"No, our bosses gave Soda and I the day off,of we come in on Monday. We had to switch Pony's next chemo session to Sunday."

"Oh. How is he, anyway?"

"He's doing pretty good. I want to keep him inside and stuff, because he has high risk for an infection, but he's somehow convinced me to let him and Johnny go see a movie soon. You wouldn't mind going with them, would you?"

"Nope." I said. I don't really like movies, butit here was always some action you can find there: blondes, fights, booze. It would be a good night.

**PONY'S POV**

I woke up with a start, finding myself staring into a pair of grey eyes that were staring intently at me, trying to wake me up.

"Two-Bit!" I yelled, shoving him off the couch. I didn't have enough energy to wrestle him. "You scared me half to death!"

Two-Bit was doubled over laughing. "I know, that was kind of the general idea. But hey, you woke up, didnt you?"

I sat up, scowling at him. "Whatever way you want to put it."

"Hey, welcome back, kid." I felt myself flush. Did Steve Randle actually just say that to me? It's not that we hate each other, we just mostly ignored each other. Soda was beaming at the two of us like I had just given Steve a hug and told him I loved him or something.

Johnny broke the silence. "Yeah. So, you ready to go to the movie now, Pony?"

"Yeah." I got up and started digging around in the coat closet for my shoes.

"Ponyboy," Darry came out from his room. "Make sure you wear a coat, it's been snowing on and off all day."

"Kay."

"Oh, and let me check your temperature."

"Darry!" I complained as he shoved the plastic stick in my mouth.

"Hey, don't blame me. Blame Dr. Mitchell."

A minute later, it beeped. "98.8 You're free to go, kiddo. Be careful. If you start feeling sick, come home. Be home 6:30 tops. Keep him out of trouble, Two-Bit."

"Two-Bit's coming?" I groaned. Taking Two-Bit to the movies (or anywhere public, really) was a combination of danger and humiliation. I figured that at least it wouldn't be as bad as the church experience. _Nothing _could be as bad as the church experience.

Soda walked in. "Darry, it should be the other way around. Pony and Johnny need to be keeping Two-Bit out of trouble."

"Aw, I ain't that bad. I keep out of trouble."

"Sure, and I won the lottery." Darry mumbled under his breath.

We left the house 5 minutes later, leaving Darry some time to himself. Soda and Steve were going out with Sandy and Evie. Soda was hesitant about leaving, but I convinced him. I felt incredibly guilty because although I couldn't help it, I was a huge inconvenience. I knew everyone would disagree if I told them, but even if they don't mind it, they can't deny it. I'm just sick of people worrying about me,Spock of hospitals, and just sick of being sick.

I knew Darry was really worried about me going out, and to be honest, I was a little worried myself. I knew that I was at high risk for infection. But Icouldn't just stay inside when I actually had the opportunity for some freedom. The hospital had become sheer torture in the last couple of days. I had been feeling better, so I wanted to get out, but they wouldn't let me. Nathan had left on Wednesday, but was coming back tommorrow. Still, that made things. Worst, I had no one to talk to, soiaklahoma I could do was sleep and do schoolwork. It was really hard to focus and follow the lessons; I had missed a ton and was struggling to catch up. The only good thing that happened was Danny. Daniel (Danny) was Mrs. Dunthers son. Darry and Mrs. Dunthers had become sort of friends over the last week, but she more like a mother figure to the three of us. It felt kind of akward, because we barely knew her, but I had noticed that she was just a motherly type of person, she treated everyone like that. Anyway, aperantly Danny's roommate had just been discharged, cancer-free, and he was totally bored out of his mind. He was walking down the hallways aimlessly (he managed to sneak out of his room), saw my door opened, came into my room, sat down and started talking to me. I was pretty shocked at first, because he was a complete stranger, but I liked him. He reminded me a lot of Sodapop.

"Pony!"

I jerked out of my daze. "What?"

"We're here, let's go."

We got out of Two-Bit's car, which we had parked a couple blocks away from the drive-in. We did this so we could jump the fence and get in without pay. It worked every time. I had a harder timegetting over the fence. I was really out of shape. I sighed, wondering when I was ever going to get back to normal. We slouched down in the front row, there were only a couple of other people there, all greasers, because all the Socs who came were making out with their girls in the back of their fancy Mustangs. Johnny and I were pretty quiet for the majority of the movie, which is more than I could say for Two-Bit. Five minutes into the movie, he was up, flirting with cashier at the concessions stand, stealing a couple packs of Kools, showing his switchblade to a couple of new hoods in Tim Shepard's gang, picking fights with Socs. We didn't try to stop him, he couldn't sit still through the movie anyway.

I was awful tired, and cold, too. I kind of wished I had listened to Darry and stayed home. Don't get me wrong, it was good to actually get out and do things and catch up with people, but it was a bit much. I wish I could've just admited that I was tired and needed a little more rest, but I had convinced myself that I was fine. I shivered violently.

"You okay, Pony?" Johnny was squinting at me, through the dark.

"I'm fine. Just cold, that's all."

"Yeah, it's cold. Movies almost over though. You want to just leave now? The movie's pretty boring."

"Ain't that the truth. Looks like we might have to convince Two-But to leave. He and that cashier are really hitting it off."

"That's Kathy."

"Oh, that explains it then."

It took a bit of convincing to get Two-Bit to leave Kathy, but we managed to get him to the car. I was glad to get in, even if Two-Bit's car didn't have any heat. I was just glad to get out of the snow. We were back home 15 minutes later.

"How was the movie?" Darry called from the kitchen.

"Boring."

"I don't know, I didn't really pay attention." Two-Bit called back.

"In other words, you flirted and stole?" Darry asked, heading into the living room.

"Pretty much."

It was a pretty uneventful night after that. I sat on the back steps with Johnny and we watched the snow (there was no sunset it the winter.) We talked for about an hour, really talked. I told him about how I felt about being an inconvenience to everyone. Thank God he didn't go on about how it was no big deal, how it wasn't my fault. I hated when people did that. Darry called us on after that. He was all riled up cause Soda was late. I wasnt worried, he probably lost track of time. Dally was stretched out on our couch with a beer in his hand.

"Hey Dal, where you been?" Johnny asked.

"Rodeo. Made 50 bucks of some old western guy. He was convinced I couldn't barrel race in the snow on the buckskin. I could."

"Good one."

Dally smiled coldly. "He threw a real fit when I was done. Convinced it wasn't a fair deal. But I got the money." He then noticed me. "Hey, kid."

"Hey, Dally."

We heard loud voices outside, girls laughing, and a car door slam. A minute later, Soda and Steve came in, grinning.

"Sodapop, you were supposed to be home an hour ago! Godd*** it, you had me worried to death!"

"I know, I'm sorry Darry. I lost track of time. I'll be on time next time. I promise."

"I sure hope you will."

I took a shower and got ready for bed after that. I was dead tired and my head kind of hurt. Oh, well. Nothing a little sleep couldn't kill. When I got back to the living room, the gang was gone.

"Where is everyone?"

"Went home. Dally's got a room at Buck's, Steve's dad is out somewhere, Two-Bit is fine at his house, and Johnny's dad had work tonight, so Johnny figures he'll be too tired to do much."

I was still worried. "I hope he's okay. His dad busted his ribs a couple nights ago."

"Don't worry about it, Pone. Come on, Darry said to get to bed."

I went to our room and crawled under the covers. Soda slid in beside me. Glory, it was good to be home.

"You okay, Pony?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just mean, are you okay with all this? With everything?"

"Soda, stop worrying. I'm perfectly fine."

"Liar."

"I ain't lying."

"Ponyboy Curtis, I've known you long enough to be able to tell when you're lying. Now out with it."

"Soda, I'm tired. Can I just talk to you aboit it later? Please?"

"Sure, little buddy. Night."

"Night."

It was partly the truth. I'm not sure why I didn't want to talk to Soda about it. I think I was afraid to talk about it, it would make it official. Even though it's been a week, I feel like this is someone else's life, not mine, and mine will go back to normal at any minute. I heard Soda breathing slowly and deeply next to me, and I knew he was asleep. I curled up next to him. I was so glad he was there, I had had a nightmare nearly every night I was at the hospital. At least I didn't wake up any other patients, I had learned to be pretty quiet about it. I rubbed my forehead again. Stupid headache. I closed my eyes, and let myself drift off.

I woke up several hours later. The first thing I noticed was the pain. My bones hurt. My headace was splitting. I coughed, feeling congested.

"Soda?" I whispered. No answer. "Soda?"

I reached across the bed and turned on the lamp. He wasn't there. I noticed a glass of water on the bedside table and reached for it. The water on the outside of the glass from the melted ice felt good against my dry, hot skin. I kicked off the blankets, a thin layer of sweat on my forehead.

"D*** it." I swore. "D*** it, d*** it, d*** it." I knew even without a doctor that I was sick. I mentally kicked myself for not telling Darry that I didn't feel good. Could've saved a lot of time, worry, and money.

I lay on my bed for about 10 minutes, my head pounding slowly. I kept almost drifting off, but I jerked myself awake. I had to tell Darry or Soda. But I was so tired...

I sat up slowly, my vision spinning, and I slowly eased myself out of bed. I inched into the hallway and made my way to Darry's room, clutching the wall. I slowly opened his door.

"Darry?" He stirred. "Darry?" He opened his eyes.

"Ponyboy? Are you okay?"

"I don't feel good, Darry."

He sat up, looked at me, and swore. "D*** it."

* I know I said Two-Bit's little sister was named Hannah, but I changed it to Casey because I think that's more original. It's also the name of my dog ;)

**Author's Note: So, what did you think? I'm actually pretty pleased with this chapter, something that doesn't happen often. I was planning on having Pony not get an infection, but I was doing research and it said that most cancer patients develop an infection after chemo so I thought why not? Also, I made the Curtis's phone # 667-5309 from the song Jenny because I knew that if I used a random #, it was bound to be someone's # and I wanted it to be one that wasn't real so... Anyway, I hope you liked it! Please don't forget to review. Thanks! Stay Gold! -Emily ;)**

**I GOT ALL MY INFO FROM THIS WEBSITE:**

Infection and Chemotherapy—Diagnosis and Prevention

Low White Blood Count and Febrile Neutropenia— Diagnosing Infection


	10. Chapter 10: Infection

**SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!**

**Author's Note: Well, I've broken my streak of updating once a week. Sorry, I've been _really _stuck on this chapter. I think I'm slightly overwhelmed with the medical aspect, I've been doing a ton of research and I want to really be able to understand it, not just know the basics. Also, I'm starting off this chapter with Steve's POV, it seemed like a lot of people wanted that so that's what I did! And thanks for the great reviews, you guys are awesome! Hope you like the chapter ;)**

**By the way, I saw the new Spider-Man movie today. And guess who was in it? C. THOMAS HOWELL! (AKA Ponyboy) He played the father of the little kid who was trapped in the car. I was so excited when I found out he was in it! And it was a good movie ;)**

****At The End Of The Road, Chapter 10: Infection

**STEVE'S POV**

I walked alone down the silent street, stabbing the asphalt with each step. My ribs smarted and burned. I cursed my father inwardly. _Lousy son of a b**** can go straight to h*** as far as I care. Really, I don't care._ I had gotten home from Soda's around midnight, entering the house to my father's drunken raging.

"WHERE THE H*** HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

"Out."

"OUT?! I STAY UP ALL NIGHT WAITING FOR MY SON AND ALL I GET IS ONE WORD? YOU D*** WELL BETTER THINK OF A BETTER WAY TO SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION, STEVE!"

So of course I chose that moment to talk back. "You wern't waiting up for me. You're too drunk to sleep. You were probably sitting here drinking and forgetting your own name. F*** you."

Out came his fist, there go my ribs. My father usually doesn't get physical like that. It's usually words, if that at all. He mostly ignores me, although he can sometimes carry a conversation when he's sober. But I don't talk with him. I havn't forgiven him, for anything.

It took me 15 minutes to get to Soda's. I can get there quicker, but my ribs were really slowing me down. I slipped through the door. Thank God they keep the door unlocked. It was silent inside. I had been half-hoping that Soda would be awake and I could rant to him, but no such luck. We could talk in the morning. I quietly went to the kitchen and got myself a glass of water, than grabbed a blanket and sat down on the couch, gingerly touching my ribs. I didn't think anything was broken, but I'd probably tape them up in the morning. I edged myself down into a comfortable position, taking care not to irritate my ribs.

A door down the hallway opened, and a streak of light streamed out. Footsteps padded down the hallway. "Steve?"

"Hey, Soda."

"You okay? I thought you said you wern't crashing here."

"Yeah, I thought so to. Apparently my father disagrees."

"You guys get in a fight?"

"Would I be here otherwise?"

"Yes."

"Good point."

"Did he hurt you?" Soda was eying the blood on my shirt. I thought it wouldn't be noticeable.

"It ain't too bad, Soda. I can handle it."

"D*** Steve, just let me see." i would have argued more, but my ribs were actually getting pretty painful. I slowly lifted my shirt.

"Glory, Steve. You need to tape those or something. C'mon, I'll go get the first-aid kit." Great, just what I need. Charity.

"Don't worry about it, you can go back to bed, I'm good. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Yeah, you did, but I don't care." I just rolled my eyes at him and followed him to the bathroom, where he got out the first aid kit. I yanked the medical tape out before he could get to it. I appreciated the thought and all, but h***, I can take care of myself.

"It's awfully hard to tape your own ribs, Steve."

"I can handle it." And I did. After I was finished, I trudged down the hall and sat at the kitchen table. Soda opened the icebox and pulled out a slightly lopsided chocolate cake. "Want some?"

"It's nearly 2:30 in the morning, Soda."

"Never too early for chaclate cake." He pulled off the saran wrap and cut a wedge. "Want some?"

"Sure."

He pushed a plate in front of me, sat down, and we ate in silence. When I was finished, I got up and sat back down on the couch. Soda tossed me a pillow. "Ya know, you can sleep in Pony's old room, if you want." I just shook my head. That would just feel wrong.

"I still can't see why the kid can't sleep on his own. He'll be 14 in a few months, won't he? Kid needs to toughen up."

"Dint be like that, Steve. You know he gets nightmares. And I think he's tough enough."

"Sure."

"C'mon Steve. I think the two of you could get along pretty well if you worked at it."

He'll never learn. Ever since we became friends, Soda has been trying to force the kid and I to spend "quality time" together. He really doesn't get that we just don't dig each other and it ain't gonna change. And I knew that I could try to make an effort to be nicer in light of the circumstances, but I just can't do it. Call me a coward, or heartless, but I don't think that just cause he's sick means that we should become all friendly and stuff. And although I don't like to admit it, I've been thinking a lot about that. If I was the kid (heaven forbid), I would want to be treated normally, not like I was broken. And I noticed that with the kid, too. If anyone acted differently around him, he noticed and was obviously annoyed about it. So I plan on treating him how I always do- ignore him.

I sat absientmindly on the couch, next to Soda, lost in my own thoughts, until another door opened, spilling light into the semi-dark hallway.

"Soda?" Darry's voice sounded worried. He opened the door to Soda and Ponyboy's room. "Soda?"

Soda jerked up with a gasp, half asleep. "I'm here, Darry. Stop shouting, you're too loud. Shut up. Darry, _stop it__." _I bit back a laugh. Soda got really confused and grumpy if someone woke him up.

"Soda, wake up, get up. Seriously." He grabbed him and yanked him up to his feet. Soda shook himself awake.

"I'm up. What is it?"

"I need you to call the hospital. Ask for Dr. Mitchell."

My stomach dropped. Soda's expression changed completly.

"What's wrong? Where's Pony?"

"Soda, I don't know, just call the f***ing hospital."

Oh, boy. I was getting worried. Sure, I don't really like the kid, but I don't want him to die or anything. And this was bringing back all-too-familiar memories, bad ones, of nearly 5 years ago. My mother was diagnosed with a rare blood disease, Amyloids, when I was 12. I remember the frantic phone calls in the middle of the night, the heart-stopping ambulance rides, the doctors in their white coats and clipboards, who lowered their eyes, too weak to look me in the eye when they broke the news; "I'm sorry son. We lost her." D*** it. _Don't think about it. Don't remember her. _

I was pulled away from my thoughts by a loud crash and muffled curse from Soda as he tripped over the coffee table and and fell. I felt like an intruder, which was pretty ridiculous, seeing as I had practically grown up in this house. I got off the couch and headed down to Darry's room.

"Uh, Darry, you need help with anything?"

I heard Darry shuffling around, talking quietly to the kid. "Keep it under your tongue, kiddo, you'll be fine..." He stuck his head out through the doorway. "Yeah, actually, could you go look on the coffe table at those brochures? There's one labeled "Infections." See if it's says anything about fevers, cough, congestion, anything. Actually, just bring it back here."

I hurried back to the living room, flicking on the lamp. There was a heap of brochures strewn on the coffee table: Symptoms, Diagnosis, Understanding AML, Treatment, Insurance, Chemo. Infections. I grabbed it and took it back to Darry, flipping through the pages as I went._ "Infections most commonly develop 7-12 days after a chemo session. Recent studies show that an infection occurring in adolescents aged from 12-20* years of age are twice more likely to die from complications of infection treatment then those younger than them. Syptoms of infections are fever (higher than 100.5), chills, sore throat, cough, pain when urinating, redness or swelling near cut or injury, mouth sores, rectal bleeding. To prevent infection, wash hands frequently and thoroughly, avoid coming in contact with people who are sick, ask other to wash hands when coming in contact with you, avoid getting cuts or scrape, cover cuts or scrapes with a bandage and keep clean, avoid large crowds of people, cook food thoroughly to prevent_ bacteria."

There was no need to read farther. Quite frankly, all that medical stuff was kinda freaking me out. And if the kid did have an infection, he was ahead of the ball game. 7-12 days. The kid had had treatment only what, 5 days ago?

I pushed open the door to Darry's room.

"Hey, here ya go, Dar."

"Thanks, man." Darry was pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Ponyboy was curled up on his bed. His eyes were open but he wasn't looking at me.

"DARRY!" Soda yelled from the kitchen. "DR. MITCHELL'S ON, HE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!"

"Coming!" He turned to Ponyboy. "Go sit on the couch, kay?" He nodded and stumbled out to the living room. Darry followed and grabbed the phone from Soda. "Hello? Yes... Yeah, he felt okay when he left the morning... No, sir... Yeah, he has a fever of 101, he's coughing, said his head hurt... No sir, they said they would call us when we heard back from them... Yes. Okay, that's fine, thank you. Bye." He hung up. "Get your shoes on, they think you have an infection, Pone." Darry grabbed his wallet from the counter and turned to me.

"Steve, you wanna stay here? You can crash in Soda and Pony's room, tell the gang tomorrow?"

You have no idea how much I wanted to agree to that little aragment. But I couldn't, it would just be wrong. Soda was there for me throughout the entire mess with my mom, and it would only be fair if I did the same for him.

"No, I'll come." Darry looked slightly surprised but tried to hide it. It ain't no secret that I'm not the biggest fan of the kid. But I'm coming strictly to support Soda. I ain't worried about the kid. Really, I ain't.

**DARRY'S POV**

I grabbed Pony's coat and led him out the door, Soda and Steve at my heels. Cold winter night air bit at our skin. I got into the driver's seat, Steve sat next to me, and Sodapop and Ponyboy sat in the back. I drove faster than normal, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles were turning white. Panic and guilt were silently creepinto up into me. _God, I am such an idiot. It's unbelievable how stupid you are. I'm worse than those drifty, airhead parents with no common sense. I mean, sure I'm new to this whole parenting thing, but still, I don't think anyone other than me would possibly be oblivious enough to do this. I was all like "Sure, go have fun." Just send a sick kid out into the snow for a couple of hours into huge crowds of people. He has cancer, and I caved in so easily. I knew this could happen, and I was gullible enough to think tsome this wouldn't happen to us. _I let all my frustration out on the gas pedal and drove faster.

"Uh, Darry," Pony croaked from the back. "Ypu don't have to speed. I don't think getting pulled over by the fuzz would help our situation much."

Soda snickered. Steve muttered something that sounded like "Still a smarta**," under his breath. I slowed down but didn't stop worrying. Ponyboy had seemed to be doing okay most of the car ride, but in the last 10 minutes he started whimpering quietly, keeping a death grip on Soda's hand.

I checked back in the review mirror. His head was resting on Soda's shoulder, his eyes shut tight. "You doing okay, kid?" I asked. He coughed. "God, it really hurts, Dar."

"What does?"

"Everything." I started speeding again.

I parked as close to the door as I could get. We all got out and hurried through the doors and to the elevator. Ponyboy started coughing again, hard, than sat down on the floor of the elevator. Soda dropped down next to him and felt his forehead.

"Pony, what's wrong?"

"I don't know." He said inconherntly. His cheeks were flushed and he looked dazed. "I just feel... weird. I'm really dizzy."

The elevator doors opened then, just in time, cause I was starting to get really worried. I practically dragged Ponyboy over to the front desk. "Dr. Mitchell." I said urgently. "Is he here? I called here a half hour ago and he said he'd meet us here."

"Just a minute, I'll page him." I twitched my leg impatiently. If they didn't hurry...

_"Kenneth Mitchell to front desk please, Kenneth Mitchell to front desk."_

He came hurrying over to us two minutes later. Thank God._  
_

"I'm so sorry, I was held up, a patient went-"

"It's all right." I said shortly. I knew I was being rude and I wasn't mad at him but I just wanted to hear that Pony would be okay.

Dr. Mitchell nodded. "We're going to take Ponyboy to examination now and we'll have him on treatment as soon as possible. We'll take him to the ICU if he's got an infection, we'll get back to you as soon as possible." And that was that. They hurried Pony off to examination and we were left standing there.

"You guys go sit down, I gotta go get paperwork." I said to Soda and Steve. They nodded and went to sit down. I got a stack of paperwork from the receptionist and started to write. _Name: Ponyboy Curtis. Gender: Male. Age: 13 Date of Birth: July 22, 1952. Parents: Deceased. Guardian: Darrel Curtis, Jr. _That was as far as I got. Height? Weight? Geez, brothers aren't supposed to know this stuff. Guardians do. I felt lousy. There was more. Medical history? Medical history of parents? Complications during birth? Is the patient taking persceibed medicine? Have they been on perscribed medicine previously? Does the patient take antidepressants? Drug/ alcohol history?

Well, Pony got drunk once. That doesn't count, does it? Did they seriously expect me to know this? God, I need my parents. I don't think there's a way that we can find their "medical history" without them. I knew they were probably just looking for major things in their history, but what if one of them got seriously sick once and didn't tell us? Maybe I could access the paperwork that Mom and Dad had filled out for us before, that would answer it. Glory, it would be a lot easier if they could just let him in and not worry about all this stuff.

"Soda." I nudged him. He was staring at the ground and chewing on a fingernail. "Hey, Soda, I need your help with some of this stuff."

"Sure thing. What kind of stuff?"

"Paperwork. You know any of thelse questions?"

"Well, sure. He's 5'5, he was 125 pounds, around that before treatment, now he's about 116. He was born 2 weeks late and he was on Avelox for when he had bronchitis last month, but he's not on it anymore. I don't know about the rest."

Well, way to make me feel bad. I mean, I knew some of that stuff, but only the basics. And I could have sworn that he was on Zmax when he had broncitis, but whatever.

"Alright, thanks little buddy. Be right back." He nodded and went on staring and worrying.

I flipped through the rest of the papers as I walked back to the desk. There were two pages completly devoted to insurence and medical coverage. Dang it. We hadn't heard back from Medicaid or Reed and Scafer's yet.

It took a lot of explaining allow me to look at the files, and an even longer time accessing them. And when I finally got them, I found nothing. They never had any problems with their health. At least now I know. I filled the medical stuff out,Haden had to go do more explaining about insurance. I think the receptionist was starting to get tired of our stories. But I eventually sorted it all out, finished the paperwork, and went back to waiting.

And worrying.

**SODA'S POV**

It's been an hour since we got here, and want to know what we've heard? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Now, I usually have a pretty good temper, but I'm starting to get frustrated. H***, I'm no doctor, but I'm nearly positive that Pony had an infection. How hard is it to just give him a couple of antibiotics? And to tell the family? I bit another nail.

"Hey, man." Steve lightly punched my shoulder. "You're gonna have no nails left if you keep that up. God, I sound like a girl."

I laughed. It sounded hollow. "I know. Just worrying, I guess. I mean, he seemed just fine this afternoon, ya dig?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Hey, the kid's tough. He'll be back to his smarta** self in no time."

I smiled at him the best I could, but it was hard. I was scared. Godd*** scared. When Ponyboy sat down in the elevator, my heart literally stopped. When people get so tired and weak that they need to sit down in someplace like an elevator, it usually means they're all old and stiff. But Ponyboy's not old. He's a thirteen year old kid who sure as h*** doesn't deserve to be sitting around in waiting rooms and hospitals and being poked with needles and hooked up to machines. He should be studying and running track and playing football and watching movies and sunsets and hanging out with his friends. He should be being a kid.

But he's not. As much as Ponyboy wants to be seen as older, he's still my kid brother, he's still everyone's kid brother. At least he was. He had to grow up too fast, something that had happened to Darry and I, but we had tried to stop that from happening with Ponyboy. A couple of nights after Mom and Dad had died, Darry had a talk with me. We both agreed that we had a good childhood. When we were thirteen, we were worrying about girls and homework and making the football team, not worrying about being taken away and living with strangers and not having enough money. We wanted Ponyboy to have the same opportunities that we had had. Well, no of us saw this coming. There goes the opportunities.

I looked up and saw an old nurse walking by. She obviously had gone completly grey, but had dyed her hair beach blonde. She worse scarlet lipstick and way too much makeup. Her nurse's uniform was about three sizes tighter than it should be. she's was also trying (and failing) to walk in three-inch heels.

I bit back a laugh. This was obviously Nurse Caroll. I had never met her, but I had gotten a detailed description on her from Ponyboy. According to him, she was having trouble coming to reality with her age and was still under the impression that she looked "cool and hip" when she dressed like a teenager. She talked like one, too. She also tried to hit on every man she laid eyes on, including the doctors, hospital staff, custodians, and even patients. Pony told me a particularly graphic (and disturbing) story about how she came walking into his room real smoothly and tried to turn him on. It's a good thing that Darry doesn't know about her, or Darry would have her head in a second for trying to mess with Ponyboy. Heck, if she tried anymore stuff with him, I would, too. I couldn't get him to tell me everything she did, cause his ears would just turn bright red and he'd mumble "It was nothing. She just said some stuff."

I heard Steve snicker next to me. I turned to look at him. His face was turning bright red with the effort to not laugh. He had obviously seen Nurse Caroll. I tried not to look at him, knowing he'd get me started too, but I couldn't help it. We both burst out laughing. Nurse Caroll turned to stare us down, which made Steve laugh even harder. I kicked him, desperately trying to stop laughing. Darry was glaring at me.

I was still laughing, but my throat was tightening up and I felt real sad all of a sudden. I got up, muttered something about using the bathroom, and beat it out of there.

I locked myself in a stall and sat down on the cold tile floor, pressing my forehead against my knees. D*** it. Why do I have to care so much? I don't know why I feel like this all of a sudden. I thought of Ponyboy's cocky grin when he told me about Nurse Caroll. _D*** it. _I love the kid too much, it just hurts to think about how sick he is. And if I lose him, it's just gonna hurt even more. It was like Mickey Mouse all over again. I remember my Dad telling me, "Hey, don't get too attached to that horse, kiddo. He's not yours, and if you grow to care for him, it'll just hurt worse if he gets sold or something." Of course, this is a totally different situation, and I know I'm being unrealistic. Whether I knew if this was going to happen or not, I was going to love Ponyboy like crazy. I'm just like thinking that to think that there was something I could have done to prevent this feeling. Mickey Mouse was something I loved, but Ponyboy was more like a part of me, as corny as that sounds. He's the part that makes me feel so happy, cause with the way he looks up to me, how could that not make someone happy? And it's going to hurt like h*** if I lose that part of me.

I stood up and unlocked the door. I had been in the bathroom a long time. I hurried back over to Darry and Steve and went back to waiting.

Dr. Mitchell came over to fifteen minutes later. Darry shot up and started asking questions, but I was silent. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answers.

Dr. Mitchell held up a hand. "Olay, I'll make this quick. Ponyboy does have a respiratory infection. His white blood cell count is low. White blood cells are responsible for fighting off infections, so when he developed it, his body wasn't strong enough to fight it off. Infections are pretty dangerous for cancer patients, because their immune system is basically shut off. But I assure you it's usually not life-threatening. It's quite common in patients after their first chemo session, so we know what to do in these situations. We're going to move him downstairs to the ICU. We've got him on antibiotics and we hooked him up to oxygen, because with the congestion and things, he's struggling a little to breath. You can walk down with him, you'll have to wait a little in the ICU waiting room to see him, and than you can. Any questions?"

Everyone was quiet. Darry spoke up, "No sir. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

I was relived. It was bad, but it could have been a lot worse. A couple of nurses came wheeling Pony down the hall on a stretcher, various tubes trailing after him. I hurried to catch up.

"Hey, Pone. You awake?" He groaned and opened his eyes.

"I am now." His voice was hoarse and almost painful to hear. He was pale, and dark shadows seemed to be carved under his eyes. His ungreased hair was sticking up in about fivr different directions on the pillow. Oxygen tubs were hooked under his nose, and I.V.s were taped to his fingers and hand. He looked horrible. I forced a smile.

"Hey, how you feeling, buddy?" Darry asked.

"Like I got hit by a truck." We got to the elevator. The nurses allowed us to get in with him. Everyone was silent for a minute.

"Soda."

"Yeah, Pone?"

"Nurse Maggie is taking a couple days off." He whispered. "Guess who's going to be my nurse?"

I slow grin spread across my face. "Nurse Caroll."

He nodded. I cracked up. Steve looked at me. "The old broad that was wearing the skin tight uniform." Steve started laughing again, and even Darry grinned. Pony smiled weakly, and we got out of the elevator.

The nurses took Pony into a room, and showed us to the waiting room. The ICU waiting room was a lot more comfortable than the oncology ward, probably because people would stay in here longer. There was an older couple crying on the couch. I looked away quickly. A couple of Socs were standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. We ignored them, but I ran my hand over the switchblade in my pocket, just in case.

We had to wait for another half hour. Steve went back to our place to get some rest. I felt bad for making him wait for so long, and his ribs probably wern't feeling too hot, either. Around 4:30 in the morning, a nurse gave us permission to go see Pony. We quietly walked into his room. Ponyboy was lying still on the bed, asleep. The heart moniter was beeping at a steady rhythm. I collapsed into a chair next to his bed and took his hand. Darry sat down in the other side and smiled tiredly.

"Some night, huh?"

"You got that right." I yawned widely.

"You can go to sleep now, kid. I ain't gonna sleep."

Ah, thank God. I lay my head against the side of the bed and was out in a minute.

*i said that an infection is twice more deadly in 12-20 year olds, but it's actually in 16-20. I just changed it to 12 to make it more dramatic ;)

**Author's Note: Well, there's chapter 10 for ya! Hey, 10 is my lucky number, so maybe that means I'll get extra reviews this chapter! (hint, hint. ) This chapter was hard to write, I really struggle with Steve's POV, so I hope I pulled it off! Again, I'm really sorry for the long wait, my internets been crashing a lot and a accidently erased a ton of it but I rewrote it! Also, I found this awesome website called the AML guide; I'm giving credit to it now because I'll probably use it every chapter. Please review! Have a great day! Stay Gold! -Emily ;)**

**I GOT ALL MY INFO FROM THESE WEBSITES:**

The AML Guide

Chemocare- Infections

Help Protect Against Infections

Blood Disorders

Chemotherapy and Low White Blood Cell (WBC) Count

Answers (for medicine to treat bronchitis and the height/weight of a 13 year old)


	11. Chapter 11: Subconscious Sleep

**Hello guys! Yayyy, quick update! Just warning you, this'll probably be a very, _very _short chapter. Like probably only 1,000 or 2,000 words, and I usually do around 4,000 or 5,000. This is because I'm leaving for Tennessee on Sunday and staying for a week or until Saturday. I start eighth grade that Tuesday, and I'm soooo not ready. I havnt been supply shopping yet, I haven't been shopping for clothes yet and I really need new ones, and I still want an opportunity to hang out with my friends before we start school. And I won't have a lot of time to update, so I at least wanted to post this. So just letting you know, there probably won't be any wifi on vacation so it'll probably be a week before I update. Well I could ramble on more but I'll save the rest of what I have to say till the note at the bottom. Enjoy!**

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 11: Subconscious Sleep

**PONY'S POV**

_I was walking, alone, on the way back from the movies. It was a warm spring day, pure green sunshine reflecting rays on the green, healthy leaves. I felt good, better than I had in a long time. The feeling didn't last long, though. A huge jolt of panic sent my heart racing when I saw the fancy red Corvette slowly following me, going fast enough to make me uneasy, but not run away. I put on an unconcerned look on my face, but white-hot fear was flaming inside me. Why did I walk alone? Why didn't I bring a blade? Why aren't I running? When the car stopped, I tried to run. But pain built up inside my chest, causing me to cough and gasp in agony. Why couldn't I run?_

_They piled out one by one, in their pressed khakis and wool sweaters. I knew then that I was in for it. I couldn't move, I felt too weak. I just closed my eyes and waited for the pain to begin. And it did. It attacked my skin. It swelled throught my bones and muscles and my whole body. I don't know how long it went on. All I could do was scream. Scream for my brothers and my friends and my parents. I knew they'd come. I knew I could count on them. But no one came. I just wanted to die, or at least pass out, so I wouldn't have to feel anymore. But eventually they dropped me onto the sidewalk._

_"Why you screaming, greaser?" One snarled at me. I could only see the misty, blurred outline of him. _

_"No ones gonna come for ya, for someone like you. They may come for a greaser. But nobody cares about a sick greaser."_

_A sick greaser? What are they talking about. __I felt a wind blow through my hair. But I had no hair. I looked down at my body. Bruises stood out against my pale skin. But they didn't look fresh, and something told me that they were there before the beating. I put a hand on my chest. Not the usual firmness of muscle. It was bony, weak. Oh, my God._

_A soc kicked me in the ribs, and I yelped in spite of myself. "You can't do nothing about this, kid. You can't do nothing about anything. You can just lay around and wait to die." He kicked me once more for good measure, and they left me, bloody and broken, on the sidewalk._

_I cried. I sobbed, salty tears coursing down my cheeks and forming streaks in the blood. I wanted to stop crying, but I couldn't, and it only made me cry harder. Footsteps came, several pairs of them. They didn't come running, though. They came slowly, as if taking in the scene, dwadling._

_I cracked open a swollen eye and saw my brothers and the gang standing over me. Relief coursed through my veins. "Soda. Soda, Darry, help me."_

_Soda gave me a sad smile. "You know I love you, Pony. But this is for the better. You can't do anything anymore. You just lie there. And you worry us,and it hurts us. It's easier if you just go now, it'll save us a lot of trouble in the long run._

_It hurt worse than a knife wound. Was this all that they thought of me now? I turned to Darry helplessly, my eyes pleading. He looked away. "I cared about you, kiddo. But you were always hard to handle. But now all I do is work and worry and try to pay the bills. I work my a** off all day and when I come to see you all I get is a smile. And then you just sleep. I used to have plans for you. Now we know that's not gonna happen. You can't run or do schoolwork or do much of anything. What's the point of trying to save you and go on like this?"_

_I was dumbfounded. I turned to the gang, desperate. They didn't say much._

_Two-Bit would. Two-Bit always made things better, we were buddies. "Heck, I'm sorry kid. We had good times together. We used to joke around, you used to laugh. You were a good kid. Then you got sick and, well it changed. We can't do stuff anymore, you can't. It needs to end, you can't hang in when you got nothing to live for."_

_Steve didn't like me, but he wouldn't leave me to die. "I never liked you, kid. You were tag-along, a pain. You didn't really do anything in my life but annoy me. Why should I try to save someone who I'll be glad to get rid of?"_

_Dallas. Dallas Winston may be cold and hard, but I know he ain't helpless. "Dallas." I whispered. He just shook his head at me. "You were always a handful. Weak, vulnerable, an easy target. We always had to help you, had to come running to your aid. It put us all in danger. Running to an empty-headed kid who has nothing to offer. It ain't worth it."_

_I mustered the last of my strength and turned my head to Johnny. Tears flowed down my cheeks, wetting my dry, cracked lips. My body racked and heaved with sobs. Johnny. The dependable one. The one who was there for me. My best friend._

_"Johnny." I sobbed. "Johnny, please don't let them leave me. Tell them that I'm not weak, that I have something to live for!"_

_"I'm sorry, Ponyboy." He said, almost kindly. "I wouldn't leave you here. But you gave up. You let them attack you. The only word that comes to mind is cowardly. You don't have a strong will to live. I really am sorry. But someone like that doesn't deserve to live when they won't even fight."_

_I lost it. Cant they see that I can't fight? The cancer is taking control of my body. I can't fight to save my life, literally. The gang turned and started to walk away. Not one of them looked back once. I lay my head back down on the sidewalk and waited for death to claim me. Without my brothers and friends, I am nothing. I am weak. I'm useless. Why didnt I see it before? My body throbbed. The world was fading out of focus..._

When I usually wake up from a nightmare, it's very sudden. My eyes will snap open, and I'll be screaming or crying or something. Not this time. I think it's because, for several moments, I wasn't sure that it was a nightmare, I thought it was real life.

I was lying on a soft but firm surface. My bones ached. I felt weak and dizzy and sick to my stomach. My eyes were closed, but I could sense darkness beneath my eyelids. Was this heaven? Or was I still on that Godforsaken sidewalk? With enormous effort, I opened my eyes. All the events of the night came washing over me like a wave. Ir was just a dream, a stupid dream. But was it only just a dream? Thoughts like that don't just get inside your head.

I moved my head over on the pillow a little. I was in another hospital room, but an unfamiliar one. I had four I.V.s, two on my index finger and two in my hand. Oxygen tubes snaked under my nose. A tube leading to my heart moniter was stuck to my chest.

Darry was asleep to the left of me, loosely holding my hand. Soda was on the other side, curled up in a chair, his head resting on the metal side of my bed. They scared me. I was scared of my own brothers, and all because of a dream. It sounded ridiculous, I knew it would if I told anyone, but in my head it sounded perfectly normal. And after that dream, I think I have every right to be scared of them.

I knew they wouldn't leave me. That part of the dream was completly unrealistic. It was the other parts that got me worried. Because these wern't just made-up ideas, these were the things I was afraid of. I wouldn't admit it to myself. When I started to think about that, I would try to get my brain to switch to a new topic. But that's not an easy thing to do. I remember think about it before I fell asleep tonight, the night I got the infection. I was thinking maybe I am weak, maybe I'm not trying hard enough. What if I'm just becoming a burden to them? I mean, face it, who wants to spend all their time in a hospital watching a kid sleep? I know it's gotta be hard. But they havn't given up on me, have they?

Soda groaned, and stirred in his sleep. I hoped he wouldn't wake up. Fir the first time in my life, I didn't want to talk him. He started to wake up anyway, yawning and stretching in his chair. He opened his eyes and turned to me. His eyes widened slightly, but I could tell he was trying to play it off. I must look pretty bad.

"Hey, kid." He whispered, gently brushing back a piece of hair from my sweaty forehead. "How you doing?" I didn't look him in the eye. I didn't know why, I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I let my eyelids droop so he wouldn't notice.

"I'm tired." I said. It was hard to talk, my throat was dry. "Can I have some water?"

"You can try some. Think you can keep it down?"

"I don't know. I'm so thirsty, Soda. Please?"

"Okay, you can try a little." As he reached over for the water glass, I saw his eyes. Something lurched inside of me, and I felt tears threaten to spill over. I shut them tightly, forcing them back. His eyes were so concerned, so... so _sad _that it hurt me. I shouldn't be making him sad, but I am.

Soda put an arm under my shoulders and helped me sit up. Ah, thank God. Water. I tried to drink more, but Soda pulled the glass away.

"Sorry, Pone, but I don't want you getting sick." I just nodded and leaned back, closing my eyes. I wished I could fall asleep. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I was scared of dreaming. I tried to fight sleep, I really did, but before I knew it I was fading away.

**Author's Note: Ehhh, not my best. Sorry, I kinda rushed, I really wanted to get out another chapter before vacation. Please give my your advice, feedback, or anything in a review! I got a ton of new reviewers, which made me happy, but I'm missing a lot of old reviewers. Please review, I love long ones, but it doesn't have to be long at all. Just a quick thought on the chapter. I'll PM everyone as soon as I can, sorry, my internets having some problems :) And I'll respond the the guest reviews next chapter! Oh, let me explain something about this chapter. PLEASE READ! Okay, this was kind of an experiment chapter. Ponyboy doesn't like to reflect on all this stuff, but he dreams about it. I meant for this to be like his honest reflection of thoughts, because when he's awake he isn't always honest with himself. Please let me know how I did with it! Kay, thanks! Have a nice weekend, Stay Gold!**

** -Emily ;) **


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